What Could Change
by ThePersonOverThere
Summary: As Harry breaks up with Ginny, he begins to find that he's been attracting the attention of Draco Malfoy, of whom he has been ignoring for a time. Set during the Possible extra seventh year after DH, discounts some deaths. Slash Draco/Harry
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I'm terrible at betaing my own stuff, so this is not betaed. Sorry about any mistakes. If this story ends up being longer than I think it will I'll seek a beta.  
****Notice: This chapter has been changed a little from its original version that was posted here. There was one spot that kept constantly irritating me, and I didn't ever read my first chapter because I kept cringing.**

Her lips were just a little too soft, Harry thought, and pulled away from Ginny. She panted up at him, eyes glazed from just the little touching they'd done so far. She looked so… like Ginny.

He sighed, and Ginny jerked slightly backwards. "What's wrong, Harry?" She asked, and Harry had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at how naïve she was. Was it really too hard to think that he might not enjoy being with her?

"I have a… potions essay I need to write," Harry fumbled for an explanation, and backed up against the sink. When Ginny still hesitated, he considered turning around and opening the chamber, but decided that would be counterproductive. She'd probably be so scared she'd cling to him. "It's due tomorrow. Snape will kill me if it's not done."

Ginny frowned and straightened her skirt. "Fine. How about we walk back to the common room together then? If you can wait just a little bit to work on your potions essay, that is…"

Harry fought back a scowl and forced himself to instead smile. "I'd like that," he replied, but nothing could've been further from the truth.

* * *

Draco Malfoy couldn't really remember a worse day he'd had the entire eighth year. Pansy had pointed out over breakfast every cute guy in the school, regardless of blood purity. The day had continued with Blaise pointing out all of the girls that were sure to be better than Potter. The day now gave him a small fourth year reporting every slight insignificant gossip in the school. It was, of course, exactly what he had requested, as Draco could hardly ask for daily gossip about Potter.

However, the odd inquiry could hardly go astray. "Yes, yes, Elizabeth. Anything on Potter?"

Elizabeth blinked. "Not really… he was seen entering the Gryffindor common room with Ginny Weasley; does that count?"

Draco sighed and shook his head, waving his hand. Again the Weasley girl. He'd asked her out exactly 18 days ago. No sign of a faltering relationship yet. "Not really, but I tire of this nonsense. Come back tomorrow with more."

Elizabeth nodded and ran up to her room to work on her Transfiguration homework. Draco was in such a great mood today, she thought as she picked her textbook out of her bag. He'd let her go way early. Usually he would just make her recite every slight bit of news happening that day, even if it didn't interest him. He must've known she had a ton of homework; he'd given her at least half an hour extra.

* * *

Upon arriving in the common room, Harry quickly dispatched himself to the dormitory, claiming it was too loud in the common room to get any serious work done. He fell down on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

Ginny was what everyone expected him to want. He'd thought that that was what was wrong, that that was the reason he'd felt nothing, well, nothing good, with Cho and the rest of the girls. He'd thought that Ginny was the One, that no other girl would satisfy him but Ginny. But if Ginny didn't, who would?

Harry heard the door open, and he quickly grabbed a piece of parchment and his potions textbook. Reading studiously, he attempted to look as though he was working. A weight sat beside him, and Hermione's voice reached out gently.

"Harry… you know that the potions essay is due in four days, right? I mean, not that I have any problem with you doing your homework early, but you could've spent a bit more time with Ginny." Harry felt his temper begin to warm. "She feels like you value your grades more than her, and since you don't care too much about grades, other than becoming an auror… She feels kind of abandoned much of the time. I heard her complaining to Ron about it. He's going to be angry."

"And what am I supposed to do about that?" Harry lashed out at her and stood, flinging his wand out of his pocket as he did so. "What do you want me to do if she's unhappy? Break up with her?"

Hermione bit her lip and nodded. Harry blinked. "What?"

Hermione looked down at her hands, which were twisting about on her lap. "If you don't like her, break up with her. She'll be a lot happier if you do."

Harry stared down at her. Truthfully, the thought had never occurred to him. The thought that he could just break up with Ginny, didn't have to stay with her just because everyone thought they were perfect for each other… It was wonderful.

"I'll break up with her," he whispered, and Hermione looked up at him, her eyes widening.

"You-you will?" She stuttered, and if anything looked scared… but that had to just be Harry's head, she was the one who had suggested it after all.

"Yes," he grinned, and nodded. "I'm going to break up with Ginny," he repeated, and stuck his wand back in his pocket. Harry turned towards the door, but paused to pivot back and hug Hermione. "Thanks, 'Mione. I haven't felt this great in… weeks! Since I asked Ginny out, really." The bounce in his step making him look as though he was riding a Merry-Go-Round, Harry strode toward the door, leaving one last grin with Hermione before swinging out the door.

Hermione watched as the door swung shut, cradling her head in her hands. Where on Earth had he gotten that from?

* * *

The first thing Draco Malfoy noticed that was different was the atmosphere. The hall was strewn with giggles and whispers, especially among the younger years and girls. Some were appearing to be upset, some even looking on the verge of tears. Others were radiating happiness and putting on extra makeup.

The second thing Draco noticed was that the Weasley girl was not present, nor was Granger. Weasley was there, but was shoveling food in his mouth while glaring across the table at Potter. Potter appeared to be waving his arms in a most foolish way, all the while opening and closing his mouth rapidly. Draco would've read his lips, but the idiotic founders had placed the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables far too far away for such activities. Draco mentally shrugged, promising himself that Elizabeth was sure to tell him something about it.

In potions, however, Draco's curiosity was piqued again. Weasley slipped shredded beetle wings into Potter's potion, and Potter got that adorable enraged look just before his potion exploded. Professor Snape merely sneered and vanished the potion. Harry got that adorable look again, but Professor Snape ignored that and gave them both detention. The mystery remained, of course, as to why Weasley was so angry at Harry.

By the time four o'clock came around and Draco was waiting in his chair for Elizabeth, he was nearly bouncing off the walls with his curiosity, not that it showed. When Elizabeth finally ran in ten minutes late, Draco had to resist the urge to hex her.

"Draco! I'm so sorry I'm late; I had to make sure I got all of the facts in to make a more complete report. Can I start?" Draco calmly nodded, not letting his anticipation show through. It would be a waste of effort in Elizabeth figured it out now. "Okay, so, Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter broke up! Apparently he dumped her shortly after they reached the Gryffindor common room yesterday. She'd previously thought that he wasn't paying enough attention to her, and was actually complaining to her brother when he came down and-"

"Wait," Draco cut her off, "You said she thought he wasn't paying her enough attention?" That was impossible. Potter had done nothing but dote upon the Weasley girl since he'd asked her out 19 days ago.

"Yes," Elizabeth tapped her foot impatiently. "Now, can I continue?" At Draco's nod, she began again. "So, as I was saying, Ginny Weasley was complaining to her brother, and Potter came downstairs and dumped her. Didn't even take her privately aside, just dumped her in front of the entire common room. That's also why Ron Weasley isn't currently speaking to him. Granger took a neutral aspect."

Draco paused a second to take all of this in. With the relationship over, more details would be divulged. "How far were they in their relationship?" he queried, and Elizabeth immediately launched into speech again.

"They'd only been together a couple of weeks, so nothing serious, just some basic snogging and stuff. Or at least, that's all that anyone's heard… I personally think-"

"I don't care what you personally think," Draco smoothly cut off again. "Is there anything else of importance?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "Nothing for certain, only rumors. Such as, there's one that Potter broke up with her because their relationship wasn't serious. She wasn't putting out."

"I'm sure. You can leave now, Elizabeth." Draco leaned his head against his hand, massaging his temples. Elizabeth promptly scattered.

So. The Weasley girl and Potter had finally broken up. That was interesting. As Potter hardly seemed the type to drop a girl because of sex, that left only one option. The one that Draco didn't know, but had every intention of finding out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, I realized I forgot to put a disclaimer on the first chapter, so I have two here:**

Disclaimer: I don't own it.

**Disclaimer: I still wish I did...  
**

Hermione frowned and turned another page in the book, not really registering the text. Oh, she'd been so stupid! Harry was supposed to realize how much he wanted to _keep_ Ginny, not how much he wanted to dump her. And definitely not in the common room, and most certainly not in front of Lavender!

"Dwelling on recent events, Granger?" A soft voice cut through her thoughts as Hermione turned another page. Malfoy smirked down at her. "May I sit?"

Hermione grudgingly gestured to the vacant stool, closing her book and setting it aside. She glanced up at Malfoy. "What do you want, Malfoy?" She sighed, before another thought crossed her mind. "And why do you think I wasn't reading before you showed up?"

Malfoy sat down on the stool, placing his elbows on the table and leaning forward. Hermione shrunk back slightly. "Simple. No one, not even you, Granger, could ever read that fast and understand it. And besides, you were supposedly reading about a calming drought, so even if you were actually reading, you were ultimately distracted, or you wouldn't be reading about a calming drought. So, I deduce that somehow, this entire thing is stressing you out. Am I right?"

Hermione sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. Pureblood git. "Fine, you're right, but what do you want? I somehow doubt that you just came to discuss my eminent stress."

"Of course," Malfoy smirked. "I just wanted to know why Potter broke up with Weasley. You seemed the obvious person to ask."

Hermione snorted and looked away. "Just ask any passing person. She got pregnant. She cheated on him. He realized he deserved better. She was in love with someone else. Take your pick. They're all different."

"Now, now, Granger," Malfoy drawled as he reached forward and pulled her chin to the front, forcing her to meet his eyes. "I think we both know that none of those gossips know the answer, so they make up their own. My own informant does so. Why did Harry really break up with Weasley?"

Hermione was about to answer, but promptly stopped. He called Harry… what? "Excuse me?" Hermione stood, shaking off Malfoy's hand and stepping around the table, staring down at him. "Did you just call Harry by name? Not Potter or The-Boy-Who-Just-Wouldn't-Die?"

Draco promptly thought every swear word in every language he could think of. Why did he have to call Potter Harry? Talking to Granger, even! "I simply thought that you would be more likely to confess the truth should I call him by the name you use most often," he lied, and stood so Granger was looking up to him. Malfoys were _not_ looked down upon. It was unheard of.

Granger shook her head slowly as she stared up at him. "No. You're _Draco Malfoy_, you wouldn't call him Harry to try to get information. If you were that desperate, you'd slip me Veritaserum, and Merlin knows you haven't tried to do that yet, unless you obliviated me afterwards." She took another step forward until her body was nearly flush against his. "You- you like him, don't you? You don't think he's all that bad."

Blaise would kill to be in these shoes, Draco thought idly, but then turned his mind to the task. Most likely, Granger only intended that Draco didn't dislike Potter, not that he fancied him, which was what Draco's brain was more intended to believe she meant. However, if she had figured her way that far, there was nothing to stop Granger from figuring out exactly how much he liked Potter. And as Draco really wanted to talk to someone about exactly how adorable Harry was without them giving him the look of 'You are Slytherin, so don't disgrace us like this,' Granger wouldn't have to work all too hard to get it out him. Therefore, he needed to get away from Granger quickly, before he confessed every dirty thought he'd had of Potter since puberty.

Malfoys _never_ ran away from problems. But, Draco thought as he shoved Granger away and sprinted out of the library, he'd been disowned, so that didn't really matter so much.

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The thing was, Harry mused as he stepped out of the potions classroom, Snape just didn't change the punishments a lot. It was always cleaning cauldrons, organizing ingredients, lines, or cleaning up any mess you made. All together, it made detentions much less frightening when you could easily sort it into a common category. And after seven years of doing them, well, you rather got the hang of it.

The countless detentions didn't mean Harry didn't get lost every time, though.

He continued walking down the path he had chosen, noting with interest the increasing drafts and shadows. The lamps were lit much less frequently, and it appeared that in the dungeon such lamps were all the light.

"Lumos," Harry quickly whispered, and the warm light strung out from the tip of his wand, illuminating a doorframe a few steps ahead of him..

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco hopped down the last few steps, his shoe finally landing on the cold stone floor. As he stepped forward into the dungeon, Draco finally took a deep breath. Away from Granger. It was improbable even a Gryffindor, or rather, especially a Gryffindor, would dare to follow a Slytherin in the dungeons. Everyone knew that Slytherins knew every nook and cranny in the dungeons, and it would be fool to follow one.

Draco languidly treaded down further into the dungeons, far past the potions classroom. There was a sharp fork, and Draco took the passage away from the common room with a second of hesitation. He couldn't speak to Pansy and Blaise now, as he would probably tell the entire confrontation in the library, which would lead to Blaise despairing about missed opportunities, and Pansy telling him about how trouble with Granger meant that Potter wasn't the right boy.

More cold flittered across Draco's arm as he strode down the passage, and he unconsciously drew his cloak further in around him. Even some Slytherins never ventured down this way, as it was cold, and dark, and rumors of rats and snakes living in the abandoned classrooms were told as jokes to younger years, often by those who believed the rumors were true. Of course, Draco had found this to be false his first few times down, without a rat or snake in sight. As such, it made an excellent place to think things out, with no peers wandering.

Or so it had been. A soft light shone down close to where the rooms began, moving steadily with the gait of someone's walk. Draco silently drew his wand, moving closer to the wall away from the intruder.

As the first of the cobweb-covered doors appeared, the intruder stopped, turning and trailing their wand up and down the door, lighting the bright strands. A pale hand reached out of the cloak, extending slowly toward the knob, which, although unlocked, was blocked from the other side somehow. Draco suspected there was another passage out of the room, as there was scarce a way that even a powerful wizard could manage to bar a door from the other side that dark magic couldn't remove.

The intruder shook the knob slightly, slamming it with their palm after it was clear the door would not budge, then emitting a slight groan when cobwebs brushed away onto their hand. The intruder cast a quick cleaning spell on their hand, too low a volume for Draco to recognize the voice, but loud enough to be labeled as male.

As the intruder turned to face the hallway once again, Draco raised his wand, and uttered just loudly enough to be heard clearly, "Who are you, and what are you doing here?" When the intruder stayed silent, Draco raised his voice a notch. "A single step in the other direction, and I'll body bind you and leave you here for the next time the house elves come to brush the hallway for dust, next week. Answer."

"Harry Potter. I'm _lost_, Malfoy. Why else would I be wandering around in your dungeons?"

Draco shrugged, not moving his wand from his target, although he now was filled with thoughts of what a shame it would be to hex Potter's pretty face. "And how did you get lost down here? The potions room is far away from here."

Potter looked down, playing with his wand with his hands. He glanced up at Draco's face once, but quickly directed his eyes toward the floor again. "Well, er, you know…"

Draco sighed, tiring of Potter's mumbling and the way he was flicking his wand back and forth, and thus their light. "Lumos," he cast his own wand. "Potter, I don't know, or I wouldn't have asked you."

Potter rolled his eyes, finally meeting Draco's eyes. "There are plenty of wrong places to turn coming out of the potions room. Perhaps I should've turned around when it became apparent this was not the way out of the dungeons, but it was just getting interesting." He looked around, skimming the unused doors with a careless gaze. "Hey, is this where the Slytherin common room is? Is that why you were coming down here? Aren't many Slytherins…"

Draco gritted his teeth, scowling. "No, Potter, the Slytherins do not have to fight their way through cobwebs to reach their common room. I was coming down here simply to check that no bumbling idiots were wandering around in the dungeons. Now, would you like to leave, or shall I leave you here for the house elves next week?" The saying 'hexed into next week' fell into Draco's mind, and he held back a snicker. Potter, sadly, didn't notice.

"Would you? I mean, without hexing me for stupidity, or just leading me further into the dungeons…?"

It was Draco's turn to roll his eyes. "Potter, do you honestly think that I _want_ Gryffindors in the dungeons? This is where _Slytherins_, like myself, can actually get _away_ from idiots like yourself, as unbelievable it might seem that we may like to." He flicked his wand away from Potter's face, turning away and up towards the lamps. "So, I'm leaving. You can continue being lost, if you wish, or you could have a grander time venturing out of the dungeons. Your choice."

Draco started up the hallway without hesitation, smiling to himself as he heard Potter's shoes squeak as they hurried to catch up with his strides. After a few seconds, the lamplight began again, and he heard Harry release a breath he must have been holding. Draco extinguished his wand, and after a moment he heard Harry do so as well.

Minutes later, they finally reached the fork again, and Harry peered down the other hallway when Draco turned. "What's down there?"

"The same as down the other way," Draco tossed over his shoulder, and continued walking. Harry quickly followed, jogging for a few seconds to keep up.

"But there were more lamps down there, and I saw a few Slytherin students walking around! There weren't any down the other way, and I saw a few portraits as well."

Draco studiously ignored him, continuing into the area more commonly frequented by students, with more turns. He told himself the reason he didn't turn Harry loose now was because the boy would get lost, not because he wanted to prolong their companionable walk. Harry's hand repeatedly bumped Draco's thigh, and Draco fought to keep his breath even as they slowly neared the potions classroom.

"Blaise, you idiot, look!" Pansy's voice cut through Draco's bliss, and he cringed. Harry looked over at him, his eyebrows knitting and making him look far too cute.

"_What_, Pansy, is so important that you must--Merlin, is that _Potter_?" Blaise's voice exclaimed.

Draco muttered a curse and grabbed Potter's arm, swinging him around to face Draco. "Listen, Potter, the classroom is a left, and then a right. Go stand by the door when you see it. Then walk forward and take a right at the next turn, a left, and then another left a step later, you'll arrive at the staircase. Don't take any turns on the stairs, just go straight up and you'll soon be leaving the dungeons. Now, go!"

Potter paused for a moment, blinking several times, but then smiled up at Draco. "Thanks for helping me, Malfoy. I understand that you have to go now, but if there's anything you need, don't hesi-"

"You're welcome, Potter, but I need to go. Follow the directions I gave you." Draco sharply turned away, heading toward the whispering Pansy and Blaise with quick, short steps.

Harry watched Malfoy leave, inwardly sighing. He was stupid to think that Malfoy might've wanted to speak to him, and not just get him out of Slytherin territory. He'd thought, though, with a few of the glances Malfoy had sent at him, and how Malfoy's face had been so indifferent, not angered, that maybe…

No, he was foolish to think that Malfoy didn't hate him. Thinking back, Harry recalled the directions Malfoy had listed. Left, right, classroom, right, left, left, steps.

Harry started forward, pointedly not looking at Malfoy, and took the next left. He honestly didn't know why he felt… betrayed. He'd always been the first to break up with any of his girlfriends… Wait, why was he comparing _Malfoy_ to his _girlfriends_? No!

-------------------------------------------------------

Draco shuddered as he finally took a seat on the plush Slytherin coach, folding his hands neatly on his lap as he had when he and his father had formal conversations. Then again, most sitting conversations with his father had been formal. This could hardly be constituted as formal.

Pansy leaned forward, smiling and locking her eyes with Draco's. "Spill it, Draco."

Draco looked away, gazing at the life-size portrait of Salazar Slytherin hanging on the wall. "I don't know what you're talking about, Pansy. Spill what?" He felt Pansy's eyes freezing his skin, and continued scanning the common room. Portraits of important Slytherin figures stared back down at him, looking as though they were accusing him of a crime as medals and trophies proudly shown below them. Three large tables for homework blocked the fire from view, as it fervently attempted to warm the otherwise freezing common room.

Pansy finally rolled her eyes and leaned back, just barely touching Blaise's arm. "You know what. You've been crushing on Potter for ages. How, in Merlin's name, did you manage to get him to follow you around in the dungeons?"

Draco calmly shrugged. "He was lost down by the empty rooms. I offered to lead him out. He accepted. The end."

"The end, huh?" Pansy raised an eyebrow, and Blaise grinned. "We'll see what's the end, Draco. You looked awfully cozy."

"We most certainly did not look-"

"Oh, you did." Pansy stood, smiling. "You most definitely did. Blaise, darling, if you would accompany me to the kitchens?"

"Of course, Pansy, dear."

Pansy grabbed Blaise's hand and pulled him up, striding away and tugging an obedient Blaise behind her. "See you, Draco!" She called over her shoulder, and Draco stared.

This was not good. This was bad. Very bad.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Chapter 3's up! And as earlier on my profile, I would like to thank the lovely people who have been reading, reviewing, and favoriting my story. You make me so happy.  
And a big thank you to Aniki the Infamous for beta-ing.**

**Disclaimer: Me don't thinks me own it.  
**

Severus Snape stared down at the two students, one gazing up at him hopefully and the other staring off thinking about things that he was quite sure were not appropriate.

"And what would you intend to use a love potion for, Miss Parkinson? Love potions are an idiot's way out, a way to skirt the planning and cunning required to make someone fall in love of their own free will. _Slytherins_ are _cunning_, Miss Parkinson. We have no use for love potions." Severus folded his arms over his cloak and moved swiftly away from the pair, heading towards the softly simmering potion in the corner of the room. Pansy followed him mulishly, inching in front of him slowly. Blaise didn't appear to notice the change.

"Professor, I don't want anyone to fall in love with me, nor am I attempting to skirt preparations. I'll even make the love potion, so all you'll need to do is help me get the ingredients and the instructions."

Severus attempted to move around her to reach the potion, which thankfully did not require constant assistance, but Pansy simply sidled around the cauldron as he moved, the irritating child.

"And what would you need a love potion for, if not to make someone fall in love with you?"

Pansy opened her mouth, and then closed it suddenly, her eyes snapping over to Blaise for a second, but then back to Severus, refusing to meet his eyes. Severus felt a wave of triumph, and he smirked.

"That's what I thought."

"If you're not looking for a serious relationship, it's not really worth it to invest your time, and charm doesn't always work as well as magic. We reasoned that you would be more likely to agree if Pansy, a decent student, asked you, than if I, a slightly distracted student, asked you." Blaise spoke up.

Severus raised an eyebrow and turned away from Pansy, staring at Blaise, who shrugged. Pansy spun around, pausing, but then stalking forward and standing behind Blaise. "Wasn't that what you wanted, Professor? Educated thinking of whose request you would be most likely to agree to? I was simply assisting Blaise's quest in search of…" Pansy trailed off, biting her lip and looking away. "…We'll call it conquests."

Severus wasn't sure whether he should jump for joy that his students were thinking so logically, or be appalled at Blaise and Pansy's motives. After a short moment of reflection, he decided to just ignore both. "While your reasoning is correct, it would have been greatly more efficient to simply ask me, and see if I would comply."

"Will you comply to Blaise's need for a love potion?" Pansy smirked, flipping her hair over a shoulder.

Severus frowned, something in the back of his brain demanding attention, but shrugged it aside. There was no reason not to assist the students, as long as they didn't intend to use it for illegal purposes…

"I suppose," he drawled, moving back to the corner to stir the potion. "I will notify you when I have chosen a suitably weak potion for your purpose. Please leave me now."

He could've sworn he saw a flash of panic fly across Pansy's face, but if Severus had indeed seen such a thing, it was schooled away within a moment.

Blaise tugged on Pansy's arm, pulling her from the classroom. "Thank you, Professor! We'll go!" Pansy stumbled out of the room, nearly falling forward onto Blaise.

"Blaise!" She hissed, drawing back and closing the classroom door. "He said a suitably weak potion! We don't want a suitably weak potion, we want a suitably strong potion. Nothing less will make a _Gryffindor_ fall in _love_ with a _Slytherin_!"

Blaise sighed, leaning back against the wall on one elbow and ignoring the sharp pain from the stone. "Pansy, dear, don't worry so much. Yes, he is preparing a suitably weak potion for the excuse we gave him. We can strengthen it ourselves a bit, but even a weak potion that will last but a few hours will assist us greatly. A little push and a few hours can go a long way. And he'll probably give us a book, and in the surrounding pages might be a stronger potion that we can request the ingredients for from our parents. We're fine. It's better than what we were about to get."

Pansy nodded and fell back against the opposite wall, sighing slightly. "Sorry, Blaise, darling. I suppose I just got a little carried away. What do you think Draco's doing right now, while we're wasting at his expense?"

Blaise laughed, turning so he was facing Pansy. "Probably sitting on his bed and mooning over random portraits of Potter while wondering what we're doing instead of going to the kitchens."

"Probably," Pansy giggled, and ducked forward to link her arm through Blaise's. "Do you want to go to the kitchens just to confuse him?"

Blaise grinned. "Sure."

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Hermione heard a small sniffle to her right, and she sighed into her book. It had been ten minutes since Ginny had discovered her corner, yet it felt like ten hours of ignoring small sniffles and muttered curses at Harry. It was no wonder witches and wizards had evolved the Calming Potion so that all the ingredients were common enough to be in the average potions store cupboard.

A book slammed down in front of her, and Hermione heard several people shushing the newcomer.

Ginny frowned up at him. "Go away, Malfoy. Read somewhere else."

Hermione chanced a look up, glancing into Malfoy's eyes. He stared back down at her, pointedly ignoring Ginny. "A private word, Granger?"

Hermione stood quickly before Ginny could start a long, sniffling protest. "I'll be back in a minute, Ginny. Malfoy and I have some business to attend to; it won't take a moment." She grabbed Malfoy's arm, leading him away from the table to the opposite side of the room's seating before he could say another word. "What, Malfoy? Did you want to apologize for running off earlier?"

Malfoy grimaced and shook his head jerkily, reaching up to run pale fingers through his hair. "No, Granger. Look, I need your help. A bit ago, I helped Potter find his way out of the dungeons because he was lost. Now Pansy and Blaise seem to think there is something going on between me and Potter."

Hermione swiftly withdrew from him, crossing her arms and glaring back at Malfoy. "And what do you intend for me to do about it? Your friends, your problem, Malfoy."

"You don't understand, Granger," Malfoy growled softly, grabbing her shoulder roughly. "These are Slytherins, not your goody-two-shoes Gryffindors. There's no telling what they'll do. They'll either attempt to drive me away from Potter using any means possible, or they'll try to drive Potter towards me using every means possible."

Hermione rolled her eyes, exaggerating the movement as much as she could. Honestly, Malfoy's nerve… "Again, what do you expect me to do? I don't care what happens, as long as Harry doesn't get hurt." She yanked away from his tight grip and languidly made her way back towards the table.

Hermione noted that Ginny had left. Good. She could find someone else to moan and sniffle to. Meanwhile, she had work to do.

"He could."

The murmur was so soft, so faint, that Hermione could've sworn it had been a whisper on the wind. She stopped, and glanced over her shoulder at Malfoy. "What?"

Malfoy met her eyes sorrowfully, fiddling with his shirtsleeve and the table corner he stood beside, running his fingers gently across the edges.

"Harry could get hurt. Every means possible means, Granger, _every_ means possible. If hurting Harry is the only way they can drive me away from them, that's what they'll do. If hurting Harry is the only way they can drive him towards me, that's what they'll do. Gryffindors aren't the kings and queens you try to protect, Granger. They're the pawns you station in front, or expend at leisure. Even the Boy-Who-Lived."

Hermione spun around and stared, part of her realizing that Malfoy had once again called him Harry.

"How could he get hurt? What do you mean, Malfoy? How will they hurt him?" She crossed the few steps between them, grabbing Malfoy's wrists, and raising them slightly, not noticing that she was absentmindedly tracing her thumbs along the green and silver trim of the boy's shirt.

Draco shrugged, mentally running through all of Pansy's past plots in his head. "I don't know, Granger. Pansy's been known to get rather… creative. If Blaise puts his mind to it, he can also be quite the enemy or quite the asset, depending on if he chooses to ally himself with me or Pansy. It'll probably be Pansy; they're very close."

Hermione frowned, tightening her grip on Draco's wrists. "Alright. I can't do anything to help you unless I know what they're doing, so keep me informed. When do you think that Pansy and Blaise will start their plans?"

Draco smiled grimly. "They're working right now. Pansy asked Blaise to go to the kitchens with her. They always say they're going to the kitchens when they intend to work on a plot."

Hermione nodded, releasing Draco's wrists and wringing her hands on her skirt. "Okay. Let me know when I can help."

Draco nodded as well, and sharply moved away, turning towards the library door.

"And Draco?"

Draco curved back around, raising his eyebrows in silent question.

"You will tell me why you're so concerned about Harry. I won't make you tell me today, but you will."

Draco gave a half-hearted dip of his chin and smiled, waved a bit with his hand, and disappeared into the bookshelves.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Why had Malfoy wanted to get rid of him so fast? Harry asked himself, leaning back on his bed. If Slytherins escorting lost students out of their dungeons was really so common, why did Malfoy scram at the sight of his friends?

And most of all, why had Harry felt so comfortable walking through the dungeons with him? There wasn't an awkward silence, like that there should be between two enemies, but a comfortable silence, like those pauses in conversations with Ron and Hermione.

_Well, pre-breakup with Ginny conversations, anyway._

"Harry?" A soft voice broke through his musings, and Harry tensed, reaching for his wand on reflex.

"What, Ginny?" Harry demanded, concentrating with all his might on the raindrops outside, and not on exactly how much he wanted to demand that she leave him alone.

The curtains dangling around his bed were suddenly pushed aside, and Harry rolled his eyes as the long hair registered as breaching his bed. Ginny kneeled on the side of the bed, carefully tucking her skirt under her calves and folding her hands on her lap. A few strands of hair fell haphazardly across her face as it stared to her knees, and Harry worked to ignore her obvious distress. Her head rose gradually, and despite his efforts, Harry felt pity for the girl. Red streaks lined her pale face, and puffy bags lay beneath both eyes, signing her distressed lack of sleep. It was no wonder Ron constantly refused to speak to him, if this was the younger sister he was consoling.

"Harry, I know this is uncalled for, but please hear me out." Ginny paused for a second, but straightened a fraction when he didn't interrupt. "I don't know why you broke up with me, but I would like you to give me another chance. If there's anything you want me to improve upon, I'll do it. I-" she froze, but lifted her head and continued, "I really like you, and I know we can make this relationship work, if only we both put effort into it.

"Plus," Ginny leaned forward slightly, holding Harry's eyes. "There have been rumors, you know, since the breakup. Things that are terrible for your reputation. People are saying things about your honor, your faithfulness, all sorts of things. Some people are even saying that a girl needs to be utterly perfect for you to like them, and even then you'll just throw them away when you're through with them, especially if you won't even keep a girl like me." She peered up into his face. "I also think that Ron would be very pleased if you took me back, even if just for a few more months."

Harry leaned back from her, idly noticing how different their relationship was from a few days ago, snogging in the girls' bathroom. He'd been snogging her, and now he was trying to avoid her gaze. But Harry did want to talk to Ron again, even if it came at the price of taking Ginny back. Honestly, though, it wouldn't be so bad if Ginny just had blond hair… short blond hair… like Dra-

Why the hell was Harry just thinking _that_ about _Malfoy_, _again_?

Anyway, Ginny. Yes. He wanted Ron to be his friend again. And it would help to take Malfoy off his mind; Harry had been thinking about the boy far too much in the past few hours. Malfoy had probably just run off at the first sight of his friends because he finally had an excuse to get away from Harry-bloody-Potter, or whatever the Slytherins were calling him these days. It would be good for him. Really.

"Okay, Ginny," he heard himself state, and Ginny gave a happy squeal.

"Oh Harry, thank you, so much! Look, if there's anything you want me to change, anything at all, just tell me, and I'll work on it. Oh, Harry, I'm so happy!" With another girlish cry she launched forward onto his lap, immediately straddling him and planting her lips upon his.

Urgh. Harry had definitely not missed _this_ part of having a girlfriend. What's worse, Ginny seemed trying her best to go deeper into their kiss, practically suctioning him with her lips. With an effort like separating a toilet plunger from a loo bowl in a bathroom, Harry wrenched his lips away, ignoring Ginny's heartbroken look.

"Look, Ginny, can we just start slow in light of recent events? I mean, we just broke up. Let's just take it slow, all right?"

Ginny sighed, slowly leaning back and removing her knees from Harry's hips, pressing them together and falling back onto the bed by Harry's legs. "Okay, Harry. I'll take it slow, if that's what you want. But, after being away from you for so long, I just can't help it, you know?"

Harry shook his head, inwardly rolling his eyes. "Not really. Come on, let's go tell Ron and Hermione and the others."

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Draco had to fight not to murder the slight girl in front of him. "Excuse me, Elizabeth, but I could have sworn you just told me that Potter and the Weasley girl got back together after only a few days of being broken up." Draco leaned forward onto the table leaning his head into one palm and covering his mouth. The position slightly mussed his hair, but it could be easily fixed with but a comb.

Elizabeth bounced slightly on the balls of her feet, nodding quickly. She honestly didn't understand Draco's fascination with Harry Potter's relationships, but how was Elizabeth an expert on Malfoy speak? Maybe he was looking for an in to hurt Potter and was angry the relationships weren't stable enough to create lasting damage to Potter.

"That's what I said, Draco. It's unknown exactly what happened, just that the two of them came down from the boys' dormitory all the sudden and announced it to Ron Weasley, and then went to tell Hermione Granger in the library. There's no sign of ill feelings between anyone, Potter and Weasley are just the same as they ever were, minus the snogging."

Draco lifted his head, staring up at Elizabeth and raising his eyebrows.

"Minus the snogging, you said?" He straightened more, smoothing down his hair in the back and folding his hands on his pants, unconsciously leaning forward ever so slightly towards Elizabeth.

Elizabeth nodded, watching him warily.

"All that's been seen is Gi-Weasley giving him a quick peck on the cheek as a greeting in the hallways. Most people think they're just playing it cool after all the rumors that sprung up during the last few days."

Draco's eyebrows fell back into their normal place, but quickly sprung arisen once more. "Did you just almost call the Weasley girl 'Ginny,' Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth felt her cheeks flush pink, and she attempted to fight it back down. Why didn't these things ever work in real life? In the books Heroines always managed to control blushes. And why in front of _Draco Malfoy_? "Sorry, Draco. It's just that a lot of this information comes from Lavender and Parvati, and they refer to her as Ginny, so I guess I'm just starting to associate the name with the girl is all. Sorry, it won't happen again, I promise."

Draco frowned slightly, but nodded. "I see. You're dismissed, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief, feeling her face cool back down again.

"Thank you, Draco." She gathered her bag and sprang from the corner, sprinting up the girls' dormitory stairs.

Draco lay back in his chair, pondering the news from Elizabeth. So Harry and the Weasley girl had gotten back together. It would be interesting to find out why, but that wasn't so much an issue. To be truthful, Draco didn't even really know his reaction. Even though Harry had no interest in him, Draco still had retained a small hope that as long as Harry was single, there was the slightest chance that he might be chosen. The moment Harry reunited with the Weasley girl, that hope was once again slashed. On the other hand, though, maybe this would mean that Pansy and Blaise would leave him alone.

The Slytherin sighed, leaning back further into the soft lushness of the chair and closing his eyes. A nice nap… That would do him good…

"Hey Draco, we brought some stuff back for you! Want some?"

Draco frowned and sat up, opening and refocusing his eyes on the object in front of him. A platter of pastries. He looked up the arm holding it and met Pansy's eyes. Wait… they hadn't… actually gone to the kitchens, right? Draco stared back at the platter. They looked too real to be conjured as fakes, and if they were fake, she wouldn't rub his nose in them, because she knew that he could detect them.

Draco pushed up from his chair and walked past her, feeling both Pansy and Blaise's eyes on him. He whirled around, just barely managing to lock his eyes with Pansy.

"I'm going to bed. I'll see you both in the morning." Draco turned and began walking up the stairs toward his bed, listening behind him. There was a flush of fabric movement, and then…

"Hey Draco! You can't do that! It's three in the afternoon! On a Saturday!"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Chapter 4 is at last out! A bit shorter than I'd wish, but hopefully the next few will be longer. I once again would like to thank my wonderful beta, Aniki the Infamous, and all the wonderful reviewers. **

**Disclaimer: If I owned it, I could truthfully claim I've published a book. As is, I cannot.  
**

Blaise stared down at the book, tapping it slowly with his finger. "Pansy, what do you think would happen if you actually touched the potion before it was ready?"

Pansy rolled her eyes as she fumbled in the box for powdered moonstone. "I don't know, Blaise. Nor do I care. _Damn,_ these stupid 'Any Ingredient You Could Want' potion kits are irritating. It has all the ingredients, they're just not easily accessible. I can't believe Professor Snape actually told us to use this!"

Blaise looked up from the book at Pansy slowly, smiling at the picture his friend made. Huge dragon hide gloves, sleeves pushed up to her elbows, ranting about the kit while stirring the potion clockwise. Her plaited skirt spread out around her haphazardly, and her lips curled as she splashed the slightest drop of the potion onto her gloves. Finally holding out the powder triumphantly, she spread it around in the cauldron and began stirring counter-clockwise.

"Okay, what's the next ingredient?"

Blaise squinted down at the book, the words seeming slightly blurred. Why did these textbooks always seem to have such small print? You'd think they'd make it huge so no one would make mistakes. At least the measurements were in bold.

"Uh…"

"Blaise. Stop fooling around. What's the next ingredient?"

"One second, Pansy." Blaise screwed up his eyes and stared intently down at the writing. A—As, there was an H there nearby… De near the end… Asphodel, it must be. "It's asphodel. Three leaves, whole."

Pansy nodded distractedly, fumbling for the asphodel and throwing in three leaves, switching to clockwise stirring. "Next, Blaise? Perhaps faster this time?"

Blaise nodded, peering down at the pages. Ah, this one was in bold for importance, so it was a bit easier to read. "Peppermint. One sprig."

Pansy nodded, and a few strands of hair fell into her eyes that she brushed away as she threw it in. "What's the next one?"

Blaise looked down, straining to read the next line. This one was even more blurry than the last, he couldn't even get half the letters. Started with s… Must be sopohorous, that went in the same potion as asphodel, he thought. "Sopohorous, five. And then let sit for an hour." Though wasn't asphodel in an infusion or something in that one?

Pansy breathed a sigh of relief, and stood, brushing the unseen dirt off her skirt. "Finally. You took long enough reading those directions. Did I get the powdered moonstone in your eyes or something?"

Blaise shook his head. "I'm just tired. I'll go get caffeine from the house elves. I'll be back within the hour."

"Okay, but bring me back something to eat, will you? I'm starving."

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Elizabeth glared down at the transfiguration homework, wishing desperately the due date could be modified. Or for something to distract her… anything, really, to stop her from going through this dreadful epitome of boredom.

"Elizabeth. Your attention, please."

Elizabeth's head bolted up, shocked eyes staring into those of Draco Malfoy, who simply raised an eyebrow. "Is this a bad time?"

Elizabeth mutely shook her head. "No, it's just that you usually don't speak to me until four… when I report the gossip of the day… you dismiss me, and then we go our separate ways until the next day's four o'clock."

Draco considered that for a second. It did, actually, sound rather correct, as interaction with Elizabeth was only for informative purposes. Her take on it, however, made him sound quite like a bastard.

"Understood. Though today, I'm going to ask you to complete a special task for me. In the place of reporting gossip. I'll also pay you ten galleons."

Elizabeth grinned and leaned forward, feeling the excitement of a special task build up in her chest.

"Sure; what is it?"

Draco, in turn, reclined back in his chair and drilled his eyes into hers.

"Elizabeth, I would like you to stalk Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini. I would like you to tell me every single slightest thing they do. If Blaise goes to loo, you report when he went in and when he came out. If Pansy goes to the loo, you follow her in. But what ever you do, do not let Pansy and Blaise realize that you're following them. If they see you, fine, they'll assume it's a coincidence. But don't let them realize they're being watched."

Elizabeth backed up and wrinkled her nose. "That's hard. Fifteen galleons."

"Eleven galleons," Draco scowled.

"Sixteen galleons."

"Since when have you argued with me?" Draco drew himself up into his full height sitting, towering over the fourth-year.

Elizabeth smiled innocently up at him. "Since we started discussing currency, and since you spoke to me at a un-prescribed time. Seventeen galleons."

"The fact that I acknowledged your existence other than as an intelligence robot still does not give you the right to bargain your payment. Eleven galleons."

"And yet, you still argue, declaring your statements pointless when you yourself do not obey them. Eighteen galleons."

Draco frowned, and lessened his posture slightly. "Twelve."

Elizabeth thought for a moment, and gave a slight nod. "Thirteen."

"Fine," Draco glared, then sighed and relaxed back in his chair. "Thirteen galleons."

Elizabeth smiled again. "Deal. But may I ask why you need Pansy and Blaise followed? Aren't they your friends? And where are they so I can begin?"

Draco glared at the girl, taking a languid pose in his chair and admiring his fingernails. "I don't know where they are, that's part of why I need them followed. Follow them out of the common room when they leave in the morning, or later this evening. They're up to something, and that's all you'll know. Don't you have-" he glanced at the papers in front of her, "Transfiguration homework to do?"

Elizabeth nodded dejectedly and leaned down over her homework, picking up the abandoned quill and tapping the end on the blank parchment. Draco watched her amusing attempts to begin her essay—writing a sentence or two, and then roughly scratching them out.

Finally, Elizabeth glanced up at him, her eyes searching. "Draco, do you know how to turn a hedgehog into a pincushion correctly?"

Draco stared at the girl for a moment. Since when had she become that comfortable enough with him to… He stood sharply, striding past Elizabeth, who slowly turned to watch him. At the portrait hole, he stopped, turning to meet her eyes.

"Do your own Transfiguration homework, and then watch Pansy and Blaise."

He turned and strode out of the common room.

------------------------------------------------

Harry mentally recounted the directions Malfoy had given him a few days ago, taking the opposite at each turn, at last reaching the final fork. He peered down both hallways. The left was the one greater lit, that Harry suspected held the Slytherin common room. The right was the one he'd gotten lost on after his last detention. Harry smiled, heaving his bag back over his shoulder, and turned right.

It was only a few minutes before Harry lit his wand and turned to face the first door, the door Malfoy had caught him investigating before. Harry dragged his wand about the floor, murmuring a few quick spells to rid it of the cobwebs and dust, and sat down.

Finally arrived at his destination, Harry could relax. Ginny had been relentless the past few days, practically stalking him and leaving no place of relief, other than the boys' dormitory. In fact, she even followed him up there a few times. Hell, she even insisted they do their _homework_ together. Harry scowled at he retrieved his Charms homework from his bag. Honestly, what he'd do for a companionable silence doing homework, like with Ron and Hermione. Or, if not the homework, at least silence, which was scarce to find with Ginny and what his venture down to the dungeons was for. Supposedly. Not in hope of seeing Malfoy again. Why would he want to re-live _that_ experience? Ever?

Soft footsteps echoed down the hallway, and Harry made a conscious effort not to look anywhere but at his homework. The footsteps paused for a second as they drifted forward, but resumed louder and faster than before. At last, they stopped in front of him.

"Potter, why, in Merlin's name, are you doing your _homework_ here?"

Harry shrugged, peering up at Malfoy's rigid figure.

"I dunno. Hoping for a bit of quiet, I suppose. What about you? Get stuck with idiot patrol again? Can't you blackmail some first-year into doing it for you, like everything else?"

Moments after the words flew out of his mouth, Harry winced inwardly and cursed at himself. He hadn't meant to say such insulting vitriol; he just wanted to answer the question and find out why Malfoy'd been down here twice.

Malfoy glared down at him. "No, that's just Gryffindors. Like those Weasley boys. Didn't they test their disgusting products on first-years? I don't recall Slytherins ever lowering themselves to any such level."

Harry glowered back, setting aside his Charms work and standing so he was eye level with Malfoy. He leaned forward slightly, staring Malfoy in the eye. "At least we're smart enough to get our own jobs, instead of inheriting the family name."

Draco felt his breath catch as Harry leaned forward, and he fisted his hands on his pants, brushing off the sticky sweat accumulating. Did Harry really need to get that goddamn close?

"At least Slytherins have a family name to inherit."

Harry looked at him murderously, and Draco nearly started hyperventilating. As it was, a blush began to form on his cheeks, and the Slytherin groaned inwardly, unsuccessfully attempting to fight the blood down. Of course, it went just a little too far down, and Draco quickly took a few steps back from Harry, nearly flattening himself against the dusty barred door. He tried not to think about what insects were crawling in the cracks in the wood.

Harry squinted at him, a bit confused at the way Malfoy appeared to be reacting to his comments. The flush in Malfoy's cheeks had to be just anger, like how Ron's ears often turned red when he was angry. The reason he backed up had to be hatred of being any where near Harry Potter. Was Harry really that disgusting?

For some reason, the idea made Harry feel sad, almost depressed, as though he actually cared what Malfoy thought. But that was stupid. Even if Harry ended up feeling the slightest inklings of friendship for Malfoy, it wasn't as though it would ever be returned. Malfoy was far too into his own arrogant, egotistic, pure-blood world to care.

"At least Gryffindors don't have to resort to someone's family and lineage to insult them; we can find things wrong with the actual person." Harry bent down, shoved his homework, ink, and quill into his bag, and started up the corrider, ignoring Malfoy's gobstruck look.

Draco stared after the boy, blinking repeatedly and worrying his lip between his teeth. What had he said to upset Harry so much? He hadn't mentioned his mother, or his intellect. They'd just been bickering, as usual, sans their last encounter in the dungeons. Why did it always have to be his fault, for some reason or another? Why couldn't Harry come out of his stupid, heroic world enough to care?


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Whoot!!!! Chapter five's out!!!! A wonderful thank you to all of my reviewers, and of course to my wonderful beta, Aniki the Infamous! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Yep, Rowling here, writing fanfiction to spend my time, sick with Swine Flu... Did you think that I was Rowling? (Don't own it)  
**

Ginny gazed rather vacantly up at the two Slytherins, ignoring the book of love potions between her elbows. Both stared down at her calmly, and Zabini perched himself on the edge of the library table, looming over her sitting form. Parkinson simply stood in front of the table, hands folded in front of her and a very versatile face that gave the impression of a well-educated business woman.

"All we wish is to properly give Harry Potter something to distract him from torturing Slytherins. Because he is not as devoted to you as he should be, he needs other things to occupy his time, and resorts to petty insults. If you give him the love potion, which we have brewed for you, to him, he is sure to fall completely in love with you, as he should have before." Pansy refrained from bouncing on the balls of her feet, feeling in the back of her mind that really, bouncing in excitement wouldn't help the situation.

They were so close. Weasley had been hanging off Potter's shoulder for the past few days non-stop, so it wouldn't look at all suspicious for her to touch his chosen drink and secretly tap a miniscule bottle of love potion in. And the girl had even thought of the idea herself. She'd been researching love potions when Pansy and Blaise had discovered her research corner, so what should it matter if two Slytherins happened to be the one supplying her with the potion?

Weasley paused, shifting her gaze back and forth between the two Slytherins, business-like Pansy and casual out-of-it Blaise, before directing her gaze back down at her book. "I'm not sure if I should. I mean, what if you poisoned it or something, and this is some plot to get back at him for winning the war? Then I'd be responsible for his death. I mean, Harry once saved Ron from poisoning with a bezoar, but what's the chance someone always has one ready? Maybe Professor Snape, but I don't think so. It's too risky. No thank you."

Weasley gathered her books with one arm, grabbing her bag with the other and beginning to move around the table. Blaise quickly slid around the table out of her way, but Pansy dodged Blaise's knees and blocked the girl.

"But won't it also be just as risky if you make it yourself? You could easily mess up, and then Harry would have who-knows-what problems. I swear, Ginny, there is absolutely nothing wrong with Blaise and me's love potion. You don't even have to pay!"

Ginny straightened, glaring at Pansy as Blaise wandered behind her and watched.

"Are you saying that I don't have enough money to buy a love potion?" Ginny scowled and moved her gaze over to Blaise. "And you! Do something, and stop staring at me!" Blaise raised an aristocratic eyebrow and moved back over towards the table, out of Ginny's sight, and watched from that angle.

Pansy quickly backpedaled, even taking an extra step back and slouching to make Ginny appear to be taller, although in actuality Pansy still had an inch on her.

"That's nothing like what I meant. I wasn't even thinking about your family. I was just thinking about how everyone likes free stuff. Even I'm more inclined to get something if it's free or has little cost. And anyways, making a love potion is very time-consuming. You won't need to spend any time at all on this."

Pansy scrabbled in her pockets, glanced around, and pulled out the small vial of love potion prescribed for Potter, holding it up slightly for Ginny to see. Ginny gazed down at it forlornly, as though she could see all the time and money combined and crammed into the light pink liquid.

"See? Why won't you just take this? It's so much easier than making it yourself. And it's already keyed into you. Why not?" Pansy casually lowered her arm, signaling at Blaise from behind her. A quick jab at herself, and then in the direction of the library door.

Blaise rolled his eyes and grabbed Pansy's arm, pulling her towards him. "Let's not waste any more of our time, Pansy. She wants to make her own, she even knows that there's no possible way that Potter will truly care about her otherwise. We can key it into someone else."

Pansy jerked her arm from his, glaring at him and slipping the potion in her pocket. "Fine. Let's go." She picked up her bag and swung it over her shoulder.

"Wait." The single word filled Pansy with satisfaction, and she paused, spinning around to face Ginny. A fake expression of shock bought the girl, and she looked down.

"Can I please have the love potion? I don't think I can make it myself." Ginny glanced up at Pansy and Blaise, quickly directing her gaze back at her knees.

Pansy grinned, pinching the bottle between her middle and forefinger, spinning it out and offering it to Ginny. "Just be sure to spike it during breakfast on a day without classes, just so that the two of you have plenty of alone time. Tomorrow's Saturday, that would be a good day."

Ginny nodded, taking the proffered bottle and slipping it in her pocket. "I need to go." She grabbed her bag and fled the library, not even taking a second to glance backward.

"So ungrateful," Pansy murmured to Blaise. "She doesn't even know that the love potion isn't for her, and we didn't get so much as a thank you."

Blaise nodded, staring after the girl thoughtfully. Neither noticed the flash of brown hair disappearing from behind a bookshelf and following Ginny's path out of the library.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Elizabeth couldn't remember ever being so frustrated in her entire life. This was urgent, and Draco wasn't to be found anywhere. Honestly, students in Elizabeth's year, they were pretty easy to find. The common room, the library, class, or the dormitories. All of which Elizabeth had already check several times for the one and only Draco Malfoy. Who was never to be found anywhere. How in Merlin's name was Elizabeth supposed to report important events to him if he was _never there_?

It was exactly nine o'clock, right at curfew, when Elizabeth at last caught Draco entering the busy common room. She immediately latched onto his arm, and pulled him off to a corner of the room. Draco frowned down at her.

"Elizabeth, what are you doing?"

Elizabeth frantically shook her head. "I followed Blaise and Pansy. They made a love potion, and they gave it to Ginny Weasley for Harry Potter. They want him to fall in love with her so that he won't have enough time for bullying Slytherins. She's probably going to give it to him tomorrow morning at breakfast."

Draco's eyes widened immeasurably, and he suddenly towered over her. Elizabeth backed up a step. "Merlin, Elizabeth, you couldn't tell me this sooner? Like, before curfew? When I can leave the common room to take steps to prevent that? Why can't you—"

"I couldn't find you!" Elizabeth yelled over his rant. "I checked everywhere; you weren't there! You're never there when I need to find you, I know that's why we meet at certain specific times in corners, but with this I really needed to tell you immediately. Why aren't you somewhere sensible?"

Silence greeted her words, and Elizabeth followed Draco's gaze to the rest of the soundless common room. Surprised faces, older and younger than her, stared blankly up at her, and Elizabeth mentally recounted her words, and how they could be interpreted.

"I-We aren't-You know…" Elizabeth stuttered, and her face turned a bright shade of red.

Draco simply raised an eyebrow at the crowd. "Do you honestly think I'd date her?" He questioned the room. Some shrugged and went back to their various projects and conversations, while others smirked at Elizabeth and continued to watch the pair.

Draco rolled his eyes, turning back to scowl down at Elizabeth. "I'll see what I can do. Goodnight, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth could only watch as he climbed the boys' dormitory stairs, and with one last glance around the common room, she turned into the girls' dormitory.

-------------------------------------------------------

Draco shadowed himself in an alcove by the great hall's entrance, watching desperately for Granger, dark circles underneath his eyes. After Elizabeth's warning last night, he hadn't been able to sleep at all, turning and tossing in his bed all night and being unable to think of anything but the possible events of the next day. Through the long night, Draco gradually narrowed down all of his options, and left him with but two. One: Run and talk Harry out of it, and admit he'd been having him watched, or Two: Ask Granger to stop Weasley. As Draco didn't quite have a death wish yet, he'd chosen option two.

He waved his hand slightly when Granger came into view, right when her eyes appeared to perhaps be looking somewhere in his general direction. Granger's eyes widened when she saw him, and she quickly shooed Harry and Weasley in ahead of her and headed straight for him. It was quite odd; Draco'd expected her to avoid him, as she had no reason to want to talk to him besides to help Harry, and she didn't know about the love potion, or did she? Did the Weaselette tell her? She wasn't supporting it, was she?

"Draco! I'm so glad to see you alone; I needed to talk to you." Granger didn't even pause to let him speak before continuing. "Look, I think I figured out why you're so interested in Harry. You like him, right? Like in a like-like crush way. Right?"

Draco shrugged to himself. It couldn't hurt, could it? Perhaps it would even help Granger recognize the situation's urgency when he told her about the love potion in a second. He cautiously half-nodded and snapped open his mouth. "Granger, today-"

"I knew it! I was so stupid not to realize it before. Anyways, Harry doesn't like Ginny."

Any thoughts of the love potion disappeared from Draco's mind, and he blinked several times, furrowing his eyebrows and staring steadily into Granger's eyes. Wait… Harry liked the Weasley girl… didn't he? He broke up with her, yes, but the cause was never properly discovered, and anyway, he got back together with her only a few days later. And obviously he didn't like her quite enough to satisfy the Weasley girl, but Draco was pretty sure that Harry could be falling all over her and she'd still say he didn't like her enough…

It was possible.

"Pardon?" He asked, and Granger grinned a smile so large Draco was rather afraid he'd fall in.

"He doesn't like Ginny. At all, really. He's just dating her so he can keep being friends with Ron. You should ask him out, Draco! I honestly don't think he's totally straight, so he'll probably say yes, if not to just get Ginny off his back. He definitely doesn't love her in any form."

Draco was still in his post-apocalyptic daze. Harry didn't like the Weasley girl? And wasn't completely straight? And might actually go out with him? No… there had to be some kind of catch in this, some kind of thing that would make this all seem an insignificant thing in the face of it. "…doesn't love her in any form," Granger had just said, and for some reason it struck a chord in Draco's brain, and he strained to remember what ever detail had been overlooked.

Love… love… The love potion! Draco's eyes widened, and Granger inevitably noticed, her face taking on a less excited and more confused hue, her eyebrows knitting and her lips pursing slightly as the smile fell off. Draco abruptly reached forward and yanked Granger into the alcove with him, flattening her body against him.

"The love potion, Granger! You distracted me too much; I almost forgot!" Granger blinked a few times at him, tilting her head just the slightest degree.

"What love potion? Draco, what are you even talking about?"

Draco frantically checked his watch, biting his lip and finally locking his eyes up with Granger's. "That's what I needed to tell you, Granger! An informant of mine informed me yesterday, Ginny Weasley is going to spike Harry's breakfast today with a love potion Pansy and Blaise made for her!"

Granger frowned and squinted at him. "What?"

"Love potion. Weasley spiking Harry. Pansy and Blaise," Draco growled.

Granger's eyes drifted to the left side as she digested the information. "I though Ginny seemed a bit off today… Kind of a nervous kind of excited, really. I wondered what was wrong."

"Granger," Draco's eyes darkened imperceptibly, "She could be administering the potion right now. We _have_ to get in there now, or she could hurt Harry."

Granger nodded briskly, squeezing out of the alcove and turning towards the doors. "How should we stop her?"

Draco sighed, stepping out of the niche and pausing for a second. "If he's about to drink it, we cause a big ruckus. If she's still in the process, you quietly tell her not to."

"How do we know if what Harry's drinking has been spiked yet?"

Draco shrugged and continued towards the doors. "We make an educated guess."

The scene that greeted them inside the double doors was abhorrently normal, compared to the events that Draco and Hermione were greeting. Ginny was staring, transfixed, at Harry as he put a forkful of scrambled eggs in his mouth, and lifted his glass of orange juice to his lips. He tipped the glass slightly, letting the last few mouthfuls of orange juice into his mouth, and Ginny leaned back slightly, a contented smile on her face as she offered him more juice.

Draco didn't even notice Granger shift beside him until she was a flurry in his vision, dashing forward towards Harry as Draco stared.

"Harry!" Hermione screamed, vivaciously attracting the attention of those who had not been watching the scene unfold before. "Don't drink more!"

Harry smiled at her amiably, a puzzled expression upon his face. His eyebrows suddenly furrowed, and his smile disappeared, replaced by a confused frown. Harry swayed a little in his seat, and Ron, whilst watching Hermione run forward, reached out an arm to steady him, questioning words unable for Draco to hear. Ginny leaned forward across the table, concern flittering across her face. Harry leaned back against Ron for a second, his eyes widening, before finally rocking forward and falling onto the empty space on the bench next to him and laying there silently.

At last, Draco shot forward, sprinting toward Harry's fallen body as Hermione reached him and began taking his pulse. The teachers and students stood up in a wave, and Madam Pomfrey hurried around the growing crowd around the Gryffindor table, clearing a space for herself next to Harry and retaking Hermione's pulse readings.

As Draco finally reached Harry and attempted to find a spot to stand, Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini watched silently from across the hall, staring blankly as a moiety of the school gathered around the Gryffindors. As a frown gathered on the faces of all those around them, they both turned and cast an easily-read glare at the other.

_This is all your fault._


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: New chapter! YAY!!!!! A thank you to all the wonderful people who reviewed last chapter, and a really BIG thank you to my beta, Aniki the Infamous!!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own. Yet. Or ever.  
**

A warm finger gently traced circles around Harry's hand, skimming across the surface and squeezing softly through the spaces between the fingers while continuing its slow path around. Voices sounded in Harry's ears, some loud, some soft, but none capable of comprehension. Warmth seeped through the blanket in one spot, and Harry presumed there was a person sitting there, probably the one stroking his hand. The movement stopped for a second, but soon began again, faster than before.

Blearily, Harry attempted to open his eyes, to see the person. All he saw was a flash of bright orange hair, and his eyelids drifted closed again. Was it Ron then? Was Ron stroking his hand? No… Ron would probably think it was some sort of stupid girly thing. Who was it then?

Harry's eyes drifted open then, fluttering against the light and finally focusing on his surroundings. He was in the Hospital Wing, that was for sure. No where else looked like this but a church, and Hogwarts didn't have a church on the grounds.

"But, still, Hermione! Why should he be allowed to stay here with Harry, when it's his bloody fault Harry got poisoned in the first place?"

"It wasn't his fault, Ron! He didn't even know until the very hour, and he tried to prevent it. It was Parkinson and Zabini's fault, not Draco's!"

"—How was I supposed to know it said Ashwinder eggs? Looked like Asphodel to me!"

"Asphodel is in the drought of living death, Blaise, you prat! So's sopohorous! Can you even read? You could've killed him!"

"…I thought he was dead."

"Not yet. Madam Pomfrey says he'll survive, no thanks to your stupid mistakes!"

"But I thought—"

"Ron, stop it! Draco, don't pay any mind to him, he's just being stupid. You can stay here with Harry if you want."

"He's awake."

The simple, two-word phrase brought silence with its saying, and Harry felt a wave of relief for whoever had stopped all the talking. His eyes, now in peace with the contrite quiet in the room, swept about, identifying the faces he hadn't by voice. Ron and Hermione were here, and Ginny, of course. She stood back, her head drooped in sorrow.

Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson were there, standing a little ways away from the bed and glaring at each other, though they honored the silence. Harry didn't really know why they were here, or why he was here for that matter, but there was probably a very good reason that he just couldn't remember. And the person beside him, that had been so soothingly been tracing patterns into his hand moments before, was… _Malfoy?_

The blue eyes met his green calmly, although the hand had since stilled and now rested atop Harry's own. There were small bags under his eyes, as though he hadn't gotten any sleep recently. His hair was not gelled back, as it often was, but hung along the sides of his face limply, falling just below his eyes. His fingernails, when Harry glanced down at their hands, were longer than he had last seen them, and had a few specks of dirt underneath them, no longer immaculately glossy. Of course, those were Harry's guesses. He really hadn't paid much attention to Malfoy's appearance before. Only the movements of Malfoy's wand. Eh, the wooden one… that Malfoy bought at Ollivanders or some other wand shop. Not the… other kind… of wand, that is. Harry felt his cheeks grow pink.

A crisp eyebrow rose an inch at his blush, but Malfoy just raised his head slightly. "Could Potter and I talk for a few minutes? Alone?"

Hermione smiled sweetly and nodded, standing up and pulling Ron with her, tugging him out with one hand and using the other to drag the despondent Ginny. Parkinson and Zabini both took a break from their glares of hatred to stare at Malfoy, before Parkinson gave a little skip and a bright smile.

"Have fun, boys!" Parkinson grinned, and grabbed Zabini's wrist as she pulled him out towards the door. She gave another little wave, and then was gone through the door, leaving Harry alone with Malfoy.

Harry's eyes drifted down towards the white sheets, and then back up to Malfoy's steady gaze. Steady _attractive_ gaze… No!

Harry stared into Malfoy's eyes for a while, waiting desperately for something to penetrate the now thickened silence.

"So, uh... What's been going on?" He stumbled out, and immediately cursed himself for stupidity. Now Malfoy would say something really cruel in response, and wouldn't ever answer the question, and this whole thing would be ruined! If only he had said it more eloquently... something that would've impressed Malfoy. Wait, since when had he wanted to _impress_ Malfoy?

Malfoy nodded slightly, his hair floofing up and down with the movements of his head. "You were poisoned."

Harry frowned, pondering the idea in his head. It did make sense, if you thought about it. The sickness, how everyone had been falling over him, the Hospital Wing... It didn't explain Malfoy, or Parkinson and Zabini, but it did, in some sort of crooked way, make sense.

"How?"

Malfoy's free arm traveled up, reaching behind his head, and Malfoy's eyes seemed to look up at the sky.

"It's rather complicated, really. The poison was disguised as a love potion, which was slipped into your orange juice. But it wasn't technically poison, it was more like non-quite love potion, with a few ingredients of the Drought of Living Death thrown in without malicious intent. The ingredients, sopohorous beans and asphodel-- their effects were not counteracted by any thing else in the love potion. The absence of the frozen Ashwinder eggs and the Salamander blood usually contained in a love potion, though, meant that none of the usual effects of any love potion took place. So, really, your orange juice contained a potion that had most of the ingredients of a love potion, but the effects of a medium-strength poison, weaker than such a poison as the Drought of Living Death, but strong enough to kill you, should it stay in your body without being counteracted for too long."

Harry blinked a few times, his base of a headache fiercely increasing with the influx of information he'd just received. So, to put it in terms of Gryffindor vocabulary, he'd been accidentally poisoned by a love potion with poisonous ingredients. That was a lot easier to understand than Malfoy's huge explanation about counteracting ingredients and whatever else. Harry just wasn't good with potions, okay? Seriously, Malfoy needed his own translator, so other people would know what the hell he was talking about.

But who had put the poisoned love potion in his orange juice? He'd finished with Romilda Vane years ago, in sixth year. Besides, back then he was single, and now he wasn't. He was dating Ginny. Even if they'd made the love potion correctly, after the effects wore off, he would've just gone and apologized to Ginny, and ignored or turned in the person. Unless they'd given him constant overlapping doses after the first one, or used a really strong one... No, Harry didn't want to think about that. That wasn't what had happened, and so there was no use in wondering what would happen if that did happen.

"Who did it?" He finally voiced his thoughts.

Malfoy's hand drifted back down to rest directly onto his lap, forming half of what would have been a very proper position, had he withdrawn his hand from on top of Harry's. As it was, he did not, and remained only half in the formal posture of a well-raised pureblood.

It was one of the differences between them, Harry reflected. He couldn't have achieved that posture as naturally as that if he was paid too, or at least not if he didn't get a few months to practice. Then again, that was supposedly what Malfoy had, practice in being proper in all ways and form, one of the things that made them supposedly better than muggleborns and half-bloods. That little bit of education was supposed to make a difference in people, and while it didn't, just the belief that it did was what actually created the difference.

Malfoy scowled darkly. "From what I know of it, the guilt is spread between four people. Professer Snape gave Pansy and Blaise the book to make the love potion, Pansy and Blaise made the poisoned love potion, and Ginny Weasley put it in your orange juice."

Harry half-choked on his own saliva. "Ginny? She was trying to slip me a love potion? Why?"

A small ghost of a smile jumped to Malfoy's lips, the scowl disappearing promptly. "I'm not quite clear on that, but I believe she didn't think you loved her enough. I know that Pansy also made it seem perfectly harmless while giving Weasley the love potion."

Harry's eyebrows knitted, and he frowned up at Malfoy.

"Why were Parkinson and Zabini so keen to give Ginny a love potion for me? Are you sure they didn't want me to be poisoned?" He leaned forward a little bit, and peered up at Malfoy. "How do I know that you aren't just feeding me some fake story to make it so you guys don't get in trouble? Why are you even here, anyways?" Harry knocked Malfoy's hand off his, and the hand hung limply by Malfoy's side, rather than being returned to its proper place in Malfoy's stupid pureblood posture, as Harry had expected.

Malfoy winced, and Harry leaned forward more, almost far enough to prop his elbows behind him onto the bed. To tell the truth, it hurt that Malfoy might've been lying to make himself look better, for reasons unknown to Harry. Maybe they had been trying to poison him, as some kind of revenge for having locked up Lucius Malfoy. Harry'd thought that maybe things were getting a little better between him and the Slytherins, but apparently not.

Still, he glared into Malfoy's eyes, refusing to give up yet. After a long competition, Malfoy sighed and looked away.

"The love potion was not for the Weasley girl. They did intend for you to temporarily fall in love with someone, but not her. I believe the excuse Pansy gave Weasley was that if you loved her more, you wouldn't torture Slytherins enough. The stupid Weaselette believed her, and took the potion. As for intending to poison you, if I meant to poison you, you would have died before they managed to counteract the poison."

Harry nodded slightly, accepting the answers to the percent of his questions that had been answered. "And why are you here? To apologize for your friends? And who was the love potion for, if not Ginny?"

Malfoy gazed at him, before biting his lip and looking away. "I was concerned, so I stayed here with you. And the love potion..." He trailed off, breaking his gaze and looking down. Harry could have sworn he saw a faint tinge of pink on Malfoy's cheeks, but that was probably his imagination. On second thought, with Malfoy's last statement, perhaps it wasn't...

Malfoy suddenly looked up, meeting Harry's eyes. There was a hint of something behind them, but Harry couldn't decipher it.

"The love potion was for me. Because I..." Malfoy paused again, and gulped, looking away again. "I like you. Pansy and Blaise meant for you to temporarily fall in love with me, and believed that would be enough for the change to become permanent and for you to leave Weasley for me. I do apologize for them. I was not aware of their plan until the night before Weasley was to administer the potion, after curfew. I made plans to stop it as soon as I could, but didn't get there in time. I apologize."

Harry stared up at him, before lowering his gaze. He knew how much it must have cost Malfoy to say that, and he respected that. Besides, it was somewhat like how Harry was feeling. He kind of wished Parkinson and Zabini had made the love potion, actually...

No! He was with Ginny! But that didn't mean he had to totally reject Malfoy, he could still be kind to the Slytherin... A gay Slytherin... Harry was a Gryffindor, though, and that didn't matter to Gryffindors. The good ones, anyway.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy. I don't feel that way."

Malfoy sent him a look that clearly said 'Did you think I thought you would?'.

Harry grinned. "I would like to be friends with you, though. You're nicer than I thought, and I kind of like you. Not the way you like me, but in a just friends way. You know what I mean?"

A slight smile came to Malfoy's lips, and he nodded. "I understand. I would like that as well." He held out a hand to Harry, smiling more broadly now.

Harry smiled back, and tried to reach up far enough to grasp the hand. Malfoy, though Harry supposed he should start calling him Draco, now that they were friends, laughed. Draco had a beautiful laugh when he wasn't jeering, a sweet, interesting mix between a nice girl's tinkling laugh, and a deep man's laugh. It was a rather comforting combination.

Draco reached forward with his other arm, wrapping it around Harry's back and helping to push him up far enough to shake Draco's hand, and then laying him gently back down with both arms. Draco wasn't in a proper posture anymore, Harry realized. He was sitting a lot like Ron would in a chair.

Finally, Draco leaned back, smiling and looking rather pleasant, really. A smile really did make him look a whole lot nicer, with his eyes still as crisp and focused as they usually were, but now with a shade of happiness beneath them. It made his hair look lighter, and his skin look less unhealthily pale, and a little sweeter.

And that, Harry decided as he began a talk on quidditch with Draco, was how he wanted Draco to stay. Talking happily, laughing, and smiling.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I exist! For those of you who don't check my profile very much, I participated in Nanowrimo, an event where you try to write a 50,000 word novel during the month of November. That zapped my creativity for a while, and I'm still struggling with Chapter 9, but this is at last written and beta-ed! Whoo-hoo!!!  
And of course, a lovely thank you to all my wonderful reviewers and my beta, Aniki the Infamous!!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned, I wouldn't desperately be trying to write a novel during November.  
**

Ginny stared desperately up at Hermione's calm face. "What do you mean, Harry and Malfoy became friends?"

Hermione simply smiled down at her, the peaceful lull in her eyes creating the illusion she would have been happier no other way. "Harry offered to be friends with Draco, and he accepted. I think it's quite honorable, really, putting aside their differences and past like that. It was quite noble of Harry to offer."

"He's a Slytherin!" Ginny blazed, "He has no right to befriend Harry!"

"You accepted a love potion from two Slytherins that turned out to be poison," Hermione reminded her flatly.

Ginny crossed her arms and looked away. "Exactly. Two treacherous Slytherins, who so clearly meant to poison my dear Harry."

"Of whom you tried to sneak a love potion, albeit an incorrectly made one." Hermione frowned at Ginny, split between pity and irritation towards the other girl.

Ginny tilted her head farther from Hermione's gaze, practically looking over her shoulder. "But I tried trusting two Slytherins, and look how that ended up. Besides, Malfoy is _friends_ with _those two_. They were untrustworthy, so naturally, he is as well!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, finally stepping back from Ginny and turning towards the girls' dormitory. "You're acting like a child, Ginny. Honestly, it's not like Harry and Draco are going out or anything. Harry hasn't even broken up with you. You haven't lost as much as you could have yet, so if you react like this now, how do you think you'll feel if it gets worse? If you really have a concern, go talk to Harry, and explain your thoughts. That's how most people in a relationship do it."

Ginny nodded and stared forward into the flames of the fireplace. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair how Harry wouldn't love her when he'd always been so kind to her, and yet became friends with Draco Malfoy, of all people, someone who'd tortured him for his entire first six years of Hogwarts, and only not the seventh because he'd been absent. Harry deserved much better than that. She'd been kind to him, too. Just as kind as Ron and Hermione, and she'd never turned her back on him, not like Ron.

It could be worse, she supposed. Like Hermione said… it could be worse. Harry could hate her guts, or he could, if he wasn't as straight as he was now, date Draco Malfoy. That would really sting. Be bested by a Slytherin. Ginny snorted, flopping into one of the chairs by the fire and playing with a strand of her hair. Thank goodness Harry wasn't gay. If he was half the man Ginny knew he was, he would even be disgusted by someone who was gay. Harry Potter couldn't have gay friends. It would be terrible for his image; that was yet another reason why he needed Ginny.

If only Draco Malfoy were gay... then she could easily get him away from Harry... But what if Harry believed Malfoy was gay?

That could work. Of course, from what Ginny'd heard from Hermione, Malfoy was spending practically every moment in Harry's presence, even mealtimes. There was no way she could do any sort of thing to him while he was that close to Harry.

But what if Malfoy slept with a man and word just happened to reach Harry. Whether Malfoy'd been in his right mind or not, whether he denied it or not, it didn't matter, because Malfoy could be lying just as much as he could be telling the truth. In fact, if she forced whoever she had Malfoy sleep with to, then they could testify it had all been under the effects of a spell or potion, and what could Malfoy say? Nothing! He would have done it of his own conscious free will, making him seem all the gayer to Harry.

And Blaise Zabini. Zabini was one of Malfoy's friends, making it more likely that Malfoy might agree. And Zabini was one of the two who'd given her the love potion. The faulty love potion, that could have killed Harry. If Ginny was to have understood correctly, he was also the person who'd read the directions off, causing Parkinson to make it incorrectly. All his fault. He wasn't with Harry all the time either. It would take more work, since he was a Slytherin and it would be harder to get close enough, but she could do it. A little motivation, and Ginny Weasley could do anything.

With that thought in mind, Ginny jumped from her chair and headed straight for the library. She needed to stop Malfoy, before he ruined Harry's mind with all sorts of slanderous talk of her.

***

Harry honestly didn't think he'd ever been happier, besides being restricted to the Hospital Wing. Draco came to see him all the time, more than Hermione and Ron, even. Ron had taken Harry and Draco's new friendship with a sort of strained nod, while Hermione had squealed and grabbed both him and Draco into one big hug. He could've sworn that she'd given Draco a quick, special smile afterwards, but he couldn't be sure. After all, Hermione and Draco must have just started tolerating each other when he'd become friends with Draco.

He couldn't pretend that it sometimes wasn't a little awkward, knowing that Draco liked him, but it was nice to know that Draco most certainly wasn't keeping secrets from him. Other than, of course, obvious secrets that there wasn't any need for Harry to know.

"And what about Weasley? Do you plan to break up with her when you get out of the Infirmary? She did try to give you a love potion, after all. Surely that doesn't say much about her undying love for you." Draco's voice held obvious distaste for Ginny, and Harry squirmed a little on his bed. Or did Draco just have a general distaste for anyone Harry went out with? Draco did seem like he would be a slightly jealous boyfriend.

Draco being jealous was kind of cute, when Harry pictured it.

No. Draco was asking about Ginny, and whether he was going to break up with her. Why was Draco asking? To see if he could ask Harry out after Ginny was gone? No, Draco wouldn't do that, Harry'd learned that much in the past days. Draco'd go about it in a really round-a-bout way, like... asking Harry if he was going to break up with Ginny.

But Draco was asking if he was breaking up with Ginny, not whether Harry would go out with him. That would be really weird... Harry had never been asked out by a boy before. Did they do it differently than when asking out girls?

"Harry?" Draco prompted, leaning forward and peering into Harry's eyes. "Are you alright? Should I call Madam Pomfrey? Are you feeling okay?"

Harry shook his head frantically, pushing Draco back into his chair. "I'm fine."

Was he breaking up with Ginny? Harry didn't know! He didn't think so, but if Draco was going to ask him out, then he definitely shouldn't. Or should he? Did it matter? Would Draco ask him out anyways? Was Draco going to ask him out? He said he liked Harry, but maybe it worked differently with guys. Or maybe Draco hadn't meant that! Did it matter? Was he going to break up with Ginny? This was confusing.

"Ehm, what were we talking about?" Harry squeaked, and Draco stared at him.

"Are you sure you're alright, Harry? You're acting odd." Draco leaned forward again, examining him, and Harry hurriedly shoved him back.

"No, I'm fine, really." What did Draco hate? What would he rant on and forget his question? Harry had experienced his rants once when he accidentally mentioned a Quidditch team that was apparently one of Draco's least favorite. The Slytherin forgotten everything of their conversation and ranted for twenty straight minutes on how terrible the team was, down to the height of their seeker. Draco didn't like most Gryffindors, he didn't like Dumbledore, he didn't like Voldemort... Voldemort would just make him grit his teeth and change the subject, so that wouldn't work. He didn't like Zabini's mother, thought she was scandalous or something, and he didn't like the new Transfiguration textbook they had this year.

"So, I was looking in my Transfiguration textbook earlier, and there was something that wasn't very specific that class apparently covered yesterday. Do you recall anything from class?"

"Of course you didn't understand it! It's impossible to understand anything in that stupid textbook! It--"

Harry stopped listening at that point, confident that the mention of the textbook would keep Draco from noticing any oddities about him. He did need to make a decision about Ginny. He wasn't sure he could still date her, knowing that she had intended for him to fall in love with her by potion and not out of love itself. But if he became single, then what if Draco asked him out? There was no clear answer.

Harry definitely wasn't attracted to boys. Or... he'd thought as much. He'd never really spent any time contemplating whether he was gay or not, it was just never considered as an option. All the boys he'd ever met were straight, so it was assumed. What else would he be?

Then again, there was nothing he could compare it to. He couldn't compare kissing boys and kissing girls, since he'd never kissed a boy, only a girl. And it had been fine, nothing really special. So then, the only way he could truly tell if he was gay was to kiss a boy.

Of which there was one in front of him, who had a crush on him. And while it would sort of be taking advantage of Draco's feelings for him, what if Harry decided he was gay because it was a lot better than girls? Then he'd probably ask Draco out himself.

"--I just don't think that our Transfiguration textbook does a good job of teaching. It talks to us as though we're complete idiots, and then moves far too fast through the subjects. McGonagall even has to stop and explain things that the textbook grazes over. That can't be a good textbook."

His resolution made, Harry pushed himself up and pressed his lips to Draco's.

Draco made a strange muffled sound, and began pulling back. Harry lifted a hand from his support and curled it around Draco's neck, yanking him forward.

It was _good_, so much better than Ginny and Cho.

Draco dragged his tongue underneath Harry's bottom lip, while Harry gently raked his fingers through the gel in Draco's hair. He leaned up farther from his infirmary bed, still not relinquishing his hold on Draco. Draco swept his tongue back along the crease between Harry's lips, and Harry opened his mouth, swirling his tongue into Draco's mouth and drawing little circles once inside.

Draco's throat seemed to vibrate ever so slightly for a moment, and Harry heard some pleasant, elusive sound, but it disappeared a moment after it came. Harry pushed his tongue further into Draco's mouth, but Draco's own muscle flowed past him, diving into Harry's mouth and sweeping the same rounds around the walls.

A sound reverberated from Draco's mouth as Harry lightly nipped his lip, and this time Harry was certain he wasn't imagining it. It was a beautiful sound, and one Harry felt like he wanted to hear more often.

When at last they separated for air, Draco stayed where he was for a second, staring into Harry's eyes before falling back into his chair. Harry did much the same, stopping to gaze into Draco's wide blue eyes, and collapsing back onto his bed.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, Draco looking out of breath and looking anywhere but at Harry.

Harry, meanwhile, gaped openly at Draco. It had been so much better than kissing anyone before, with Ginny being so… Ginny… and Cho crying all the time. Even now, Draco looked amazing, despite the light pink icing on his pale cheeks and the gel in his hair sticking all askew.

Harry stared at Draco's flushed picture, finally commenting, "Well, I guess that answers my question."

Draco glanced back up at Harry, diving his eyes back down and to the right. "What question was that?"

Harry grinned at Draco, and waved a hand. "Guess I'm breaking up with Ginny."

Draco smiled slightly, nodding and looking up at Harry. "Good. So..." He stopped and stared at Harry's expression.

Harry continued grinning at him, waiting. He might regret this later, but for now, a snogging session that wonderful had to have some weight in his sexuality. And he definitely liked Draco in at least one way, if not more.

"Would you like to..." Draco hesitated, still eyeing Harry's grin. "Pursue a relationship?"

Harry nodded rapidly, lunging forward and catching Draco in a big hug. "I'd love to, Draco." Then he froze, and suddenly stared up at Draco as a thought hit him. "Are we... boyfriends, then?"

Draco smiled down at him, withdrawing Harry's arms from around him and gently setting him back into the infirmary bed. "Yes, boyfriends. Unless you'd rather be lovers?" He trailed off the question a bit at the end, choosing that moment to brush a kiss on Harry's lips.

Harry felt his face heat up, and he quickly shook his head. "No, boyfriends is fine." He paused, and asked the next question that came to mind. "In homosexual relationships, the same rules apply, right? No cheating, be truthful, all that?"

Draco rolled his eyes, leaning back. "Of course, Harry. They don't just go around snogging everyone and call one person their boyfriend."

"Okay," Harry smiled, and laid back against the pillows, watching Draco. "Boyfriends."

***

Draco stepped into the boys' dormitory and rolled his eyes at the figure on the bed next to his, sitting with his knees held tight to his chest. Draco threw his cloak onto his bed and sat on the Blaise's bed beside him, looking out the corner of his eye at the boy.

"What happened this time?" Draco couldn't say he wasn't the slightest bit angry at Blaise for mis-reading directions and thus poisoning Draco's crush, but he was pretty sure Pansy had already chewed out Blaise quite thoroughly. Although, had Blaise not mis-read the directions, Harry would have been falling all over Draco's feet under the influence of a love potion. He wasn't sure which he would've preferred, since the latter would make quite a letdown when the potion wore off.

Blaise shrugged, keeping his pitiful posture. "She's still angry at me for screwing up the potion. You are too, aren't you."

Draco nodded, raising his right arm and slinging it around Blaise's dejected shoulders. "A little. But not as much as she is. I'm more just angry at you for meddling in my affairs."

Blaise grinned for the first time, snuggling in closer to Draco and huddling against his chest, bringing his knees up to rest on Draco's lap. "I like being with you anyways, but affairs, Draco? Didn't know you had anyone to have an affair with. Having fun?"

Draco rolled his eyes again, ignoring Blaise's proximity. The other times Pansy had banished Blaise from her sight, Blaise had done much the same, but he hadn't gotten quite this close to Draco before. "You know what I meant, Blaise. I'm so close to getting Harry now. You know, we actually had a civil conversation again. It was wonderful. He's really nice when he's not up to hating your guts. He's hot too."

"Mmm..." Blaise hummed, and lifted his head to lay it on Draco's shoulder, slowly extending his tongue and beginning to trace slow patterns on Draco's neck. Long trails of pale dampened skin flowed in its wake, and a barely suppressed shudder ran through Draco. A small sound escaped Blaise's mouth as he leaned in farther and unfurled his legs a bit more. As he did so, the weight on Draco's chest increased a fraction, and Draco gulped and continued.

"We talked about textbooks a bit... We kind of made out, but not really, I guess. Well, we did, but not with the kind of stuff that you usually constitute making out, with groping and the like. It was quite innocent, when I think about it. He's innocent, really, or at least more so than me." Draco paused, feeling Blaise's tongue drag along underneath his jaw line. "Would you stop that?

Blaise paused for a second, and then continued, dragging his tongue back and beginning to play with Draco's ear lobe, lifting his head slightly. "No."

Draco rolled his eyes. He'd just gotten with Harry, he wasn't going to mess that up. He'd even explained that boyfriends weren't supposed to cheat on each other either. But it felt so good... And it had been so long since he'd done this sort of thing; he'd completely stopped when he started crushing on Harry.

Draco sighed, tightening his arm around Blaise. "So anyways, we talked about how gay boyfriends was the same as straight boyfriend and girlfriend, no cheating and the like. I think he's forgotten about you being the fault in the poisoning too, even though you and Pansy were being quite loud about it when he woke up."

"Wasn't my fault. She was shouting at me. She does it a lot. I don't like it." Blaise trailed his tongue downwards, dipping underneath Draco's collar and swiping back up, curling underneath his bottom lip and dancing to his other ear. The lobe was slowly suctioned into his mouth, and Draco closed his eyes slowly, tilting his head back.

A dark hand dragged up his chest, brushing up the center and stopping at the collar of his shirt, slowly slipping the top button undone.

Blaise's other hand had begun searching up Draco's shirt, and Draco hadn't even noticed. It felt so good... Why was he resisting? Was there a reason, or was it just something he'd started doing?

To hell with it, Draco decided, and succumbed to Blaise's hands, and wherever that happened to take him.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Horribly short chapter, I know, but it hasn't been too long since the last chapter. And chapter nine will probably take forever coming out after this, since I'm not quite sure where I'm going. But it won't be as long as the last long break between chapters, I promise! And thank you to all my wonderful reviewers, and of course to my wonderful beta, Aniki the Infamous!**

**Disclaimer: Not JK Rowling. Yet. Who knows, maybe I'll be the next best-selling author!!!!! (unlikely) (Don't own)  
**

Draco was talking with Harry about the next Quidditch World Cup when he heard the tapping of a girl's heels. It was exactly four o'clock, so there was only one person it could be, given the timing and Harry's wide eyes of confusion.

"Elizabeth," Draco continued staring forward, "There is no reason for you to continue reporting to me at the present. Unless there is something especially important you need to tell me?"

Harry shot him an irritated look, but Draco ignored it. It wasn't as if Elizabeth wasn't used to the treatment.

Elizabeth stepped around him, standing beside Harry so he could see her. "There are a few rumors that I think you would be very interested in, Draco."

"And you would be so experienced in my interests, would you, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth looked down at her shoes, adjusting the bag on her shoulder and shuffling her feet. "No, Draco. But it will only take a moment to introduce the topic, and then you can decide whether it is important or not. Just a second."

Draco rolled his eyes and cradled his head in his hands, before propping his head up and staring at Elizabeth. "Alright, Elizabeth. Let's hear it."

Elizabeth shot a look to her right, at Harry, and shifted her weight to the other foot. "Actually Draco, I think it might be preferable if we move a little farther away from Potter."

Harry's eyebrows knitted and his eyes narrowed slightly as he looked up at Draco, accusation flittering in his eyes. Draco shot him a glance and turned back to Elizabeth, sighing.

"Elizabeth, anything you wish to tell me can just as easily be stated in front of Harry." Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw Harry give just the slightest nod to him.

Elizabeth shifted again, but finally stepped back to face them both. "There have been rumors going on about you and Blaise Zabini, Draco. Things about how you and him are more than just friends. Sexual, really. There's also the fact that several people claim to have heard you guys a few nights ago."

Draco closed his eyes, hearing a swift intake of breath from the bed in front of him. Gasps were never a good sign in these circumstances. Never.

There was a soft rustle of a skirt, and Elizabeth's heels tapped over to him. A hand was left on his shoulder, and she whispered, "I can give you the rest later, if you'd prefer. Away from Potter, maybe."

Draco shook his head, moving away from her. The damage was done. Even if he arranged for Elizabeth to withhold the details of the tale from Harry, Harry'd surely ask Granger and Weasley the next moment they came to see him. Best to get it over with and see how much damage control there was to do.

Elizabeth sighed, and nodded. "The more malicious gossips have noticed how much time is spent in the hospital wing with Potter. They pieced together a rough version of events, they believe. You poisoned Potter, and then have visited him so much to give him the illusion you care for him, and winning his heart. After you have it, you will crush him, torture him, and then kill him. Whether you torture and kill him or not depends on the person. Quite cliche, really." Elizabeth glanced at Harry. "And completely impossible, of course. They should know Draco would never do any such thing. Just scrabbling for stories as to why Potter got poisoned, is all."

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but Harry beat him to it. "Elizabeth, is it?"

Elizabeth stepped back, almost cornered against the bed, and nodded.

"Well, Elizabeth, could you tell me more about the evidence the gossips have gathered that leads them to believe Draco is..." Harry trailed off, and Draco saw him cringe slightly. "..._involved_ with Zabini?"

"I suppose so," Elizabeth shot a quick glance at Draco, and he nodded. There would be convincing evidence, of course. If not, Elizabeth had probably seen nothing herself, just heard about it. Any evidence could just as easily be made up. Draco would have to make sure to remind Harry of that.

"Vincent Crabbe shares the room with Draco, Blaise, Gregory Goyle, and Theodore Nott. He testified to the occasion, proclaiming that he was returning to his room for a quill, and saw Draco and Blaise..." Elizabeth shifted and looked down at her shoes. "...ehm, engaging in sexual acts."

Draco forced himself to keep a blank expression. That evidence was... not easily refutable. It was probably correct, too. Draco'd thought he'd heard noises by the door. But the other seventh year's boys were so loud sometimes, and it was easy to blame it on them. But maybe he should've still checked...

Harry nodded, and glared up at Draco, his fists tangling in the covers. "Thanks, Elizabeth." He paused, and glanced back at her. "No offense, but could you come back later? Draco and I need to talk. And being you're a gossip-y person, I don't think it would be good for you to be here."

Draco refrained from mentioning the offense in 'gossip-y person', and instead nodded again to Elizabeth as she silently requested his permission to obey Harry and leave them to 'talk'. Draco did allow the thought that it would probably be more yelling, and not talking this out like normal people.

Elizabeth smiled nervously back at him, then gave the slightest nod of recognition to Harry, before spinning on the flat of her foot and walking with a strange spring in her step out the door.

Draco turned back to Harry. "Look, Harry, let's just--"

"I think it would be best if we stopped this relationship, Draco. I'm sure we can still be friends, but I don't think we can make this thing between us work." Harry stared levelly at Draco, his chin only the slightest bit farther up than it usually was.

Draco groaned, scraping a hand back through his hair and propping his weight more on one leg than the other. "Harry, would you stop quoting clichêd Muggle movie and book break up lines just enough to listen to me?"

Harry continued staring accusingly at him, but nodded.

"It wasn't my fault."

Harry raised an eyebrow and tilted his head.

"Okay, it was partly my fault. I forgot myself and participated willingly. It will never happen again. But it was mostly Blaise's fault! He came onto me, I swear it."

Harry's head had lowered at sometime during Draco's haphazard explanation, but now it flew back up, and Harry's eyes locked upon Draco's own. "It doesn't matter what Zabini did, Draco. As you already stated, you willingly participated, which translates to the fact that you have willingly cheated on me. We already ascertained that we wouldn't cheat on each other, Draco! And yet you did, which means that we should break up."

"Should we, or will we, Harry? I'm not talking about 'should's, I'm talking about what we will do. Whether we 'should' or not has very little to do with this."

Harry hesitated, but only for a fraction of a second. "Both. We 'should' break up, and we 'will' break up. I am breaking up with you, because you cheated on me with your best friend. He's probably still going to be your best friend, so there's no guarantee this won't happen again. It's easier just to make sure it doesn't affect me again by breaking up, and then you won't have to worry about cheating on anyone either. Please leave, Draco. I just want to think right now."

Draco kept his feet planted, and continued staring at Harry.

Harry sighed, and shifted himself up on his hospital bed. "Draco, please just go away."

Draco shook his head. "No. I swear, Harry, it will never happen again. There's no reason to break up over it."

"Yes, there is." Draco started as Harry spoke, and Harry looked away as he continued. "I don't want to have a relationship where the other member cheated on me. This is over, Draco. Deal with it." A diamond voice finished the statement, dazzling in its own way, but harder than anything to be expressed in a voice.

Another argument began to slide its way up Draco's throat, but Draco sent it away, turning away towards the Infirmary's white doors. "All right, then." He started forward, lifting his head as he went.

After all, diamonds could only be cut by other diamonds.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Yay, a new chapter!!! Thank you to all you wonderful people who reviewed the last two chapters, and of course to all that are reading. A big, Big, BIG thank you to my wonderful beta of fantastical-ness, Aniki the Infamous!!!!!!**

**Disclaimer: In my imaginary world, I own Harry Potter. In this one, I don't.**

"I do wonder what's happened between Draco and Potter," Pansy muttered, leaning back in her chair and glaring at a gaping first year.

Blaise shrugged. "They were doing okay yesterday, weren't they? Friends and whatnot. Probably nothing's changed." He glanced around, and then back to Pansy. "It's odd though. Everyone's staring at us today. You know why?"

Pansy shook her head, strands of hair getting stuck between her lips and over her nose. She brushed them away, frowning.

"They actually seem to be staring at you more than me. Did you do something without telling me again? You know I hate it when you do that, Blaise. Last time it ended up poisoning Potter."

Blaise scowled back. "I didn't know that, so I couldn't have told you, could I? And no, I didn't do anything strange. You did yell at me awfully loudly last night. Perhaps they're trying to guess what you were yelling at me about?"

"Idiot," Pansy reached over and hit him, before settling back into her seat. "Then they'd be staring at me, not you. You sure you didn't do anything?"

Blaise rolled his eyes and shrugged. "I don't know. The Weasley Girl came and talked to me at dinner after you'd stomped off. She said something about how we'd both lost someone really close to us recently. It was really rather pointless; I think she thought you'd broken up with me, not that we were ever together in the first place. She got really close at one point, though. Maybe she was hitting on me." Blaise smirked. "Now that would be gossip-worthy. 'Weasley Hits on Older Slytherin.' Headline material!"

"I really doubt that." Pansy slumped, but then sighed and pushed herself up. "I'll go ask someone."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Always have to know everything, don't you? Go interrogate the little girls, then. Have fun." He stared after her, eyebrows raised, until she returned. "Well? What did I do that was so incredibly gossip-worthy?"

Pansy was frowning at him, her head tilted to the side. A few strands of hair fell across her face and half into her eyes, and she continued standing, her arms crossed at her waist as she leaned against the chair.

"You had sex with Draco?"

"What?" Blaise stumbled to his feet and peered over her shoulder at the girls she'd spoken to. "No, I didn't! Why would I sleep with Draco, of all people? He's getting into a relationship, for heaven's sake! He'd never agree, you know that right, Pansy? I'd never force anyone."

Pansy glanced away.

"Pansy..." Blaise trailed off, scowling. "Why don't you believe me? Why are you believing those stupid gossip-mongers? We use them for rumors, remember? We're Slytherins. If we want to know if something's true, we go to the subject. I'm the subject, Pansy, and trust me, it never happened."

Pansy glared back up at him, her face turning pink and her nose almost scrunching as she gripped the arm of the chair she stood next to. "I don't know who to believe. You are a perfectly capable liar, Blaise. I've been on the receiving side of it more than a few times, and I've even helped you manipulate people to your whims. How should I know if you're telling the truth now, or just lying to me like you do to everyone else?"

"It's a rumor-mill. We distrust them for a reason! People told people who told people who told the person who told the person who told you. There's no beginning!"

"They say their source is Crabbe and Goyle, who sleep in the same room as you two. They would know!" Tears bubbled in her eyes, and Pansy glanced around at all the people staring around her, people who would know she was crying. She cried harder.

"Pansy..." Blaise stared at her, before throwing up his hands. He lowered his voice. "What do I have to say for you to believe me? Obviously something happened or something was misspoken for this to happen. I have no recollection at all of sleeping with Draco, nor was I drinking last night. If we ask Draco, and he says we did, then something happened to make me act as I did. Or he obliviated me, which he wouldn't have done if he was just going to tell us about it. So, let's go talk to Draco, and figure this out, hmm?" Pansy nodded, and brushed a hand across her face, shaking the moisture off to dry in the air a second afterwards.

"Pansy..." Blaise stared at her, frowning. "...it might be best if you went upstairs first and cleaned up. Your face is all blotchy."

Pansy's eyes widened, and she snapped a makeup mirror out of her purse, holding it up and examining her face in it. She groaned, and shuffled it away. "Thanks," she muttered, and pushed through the hoards of gaping people to the girls' dormitory. "Be back down in a minute," she called down, and Blaise looked around at all of the people.

"Don't you have my sex life to gossip about? Go on, shoo. Pansy will be ready to kill you all when she gets downstairs. It would be in your best interest to be gone by then." The crowd scattered immediately.

Pansy came flying downstairs a minute later, her face clear again, if you didn't look closely enough to see the layers of makeup.

"Blaise, the people, we've got to-" She frowned, glancing around the common room, glazing over the few people playing chess or studying. "Hey, where'd everybody go?"

Blaise grinned. "I dunno. Come on, let's go talk to Draco."

* * *

"Really mate, I think you're much better off without that bastard Malfoy. I mean, I know you liked him and all, but he wasn't good for you. He bloody cheated on you after all!" Ron punctuated the last sentence with a wild waving of his arms, and Harry absentmindedly nodded up at him.

Hermione perched on Harry's bed on the other side, and laid a gentle arm across his shoulders. "Oh, leave him alone for a bit, Ron. You're right, he was cheated on. That's why he probably doesn't really want to talk about it."

Ron scowled over at her. "Yeah, sure. Of course he wants to talk about it. What about Ginny, Harry? Now Malfoy's gone, will you go back to her? She was really upset when you broke up with her, and even more upset when you started dating Malfoy. I'm sure she'd agree if you asked her out again."

Harry closed his eyes slowly, trying to dampen Ron's voice that way. It only made his voice louder. "Ron, I left Ginny before I got with Malfoy. I'm not going back to her."

Ron immediately started in again, leaning forward towards Harry at a level that really reminded Harry of a professor leaning over the desk of a student that wasn't paying attention. Like Snape.

"But Harry-"

Hermione scrambled to her feet and looked past them towards the door, reaching into her robes. Harry and Ron both turned, and a voice spoke. "Look, don't curse us, or hex us, or do anything that could be perceived as a bad thing to either of us to any of us, okay? We're here to talk, because we all really need to talk and get something straight. So don't hurt us."

Harry worked his best to scowl heavily at Zabini as he strode towards them, but mostly to ignore Draco as he and Parkinson trailed behind. Zabini stopped, and raised both hands in the universal sign for surrendering. A spell shot out of Ron's wand towards him, and Zabini quickly side-stepped over to the left.

"I have no memory of ever having sex with Draco. Ever. And I'm pretty sure I'd remember that."

Hermione stuffed her wand back into her robes and stepped around Harry's bed, beginning a circle around the Slytherins. "There were witnesses. You can't deny that it happened." She frowned, and looked back and forth between Zabini and Draco. Draco continued staring at his shoes.

"We're not denying that it happened," Parkinson broke in, and she stepped in front of Hermione's path. "Draco, although he wishes it hadn't happened, he still admits that it did. Which leads to the question of why Blaise can't remember it." She said the last part in a low, mystical voice, like the women in mystery TV shows who state the actual mystery for the first time.

Ron snorted. "So the bloke has problems. He's the one who misread the potion ingredients to create the love potion that poisoned Harry, right? He's hardly a good example of perfection. Prob'ly just forgot."

Zabini grinned. "Right, Weasley, because everyone forgets when they have sex with their best friend, who is not only in a relationship but also the same gender. And I'm not gay, or bisexual." He paused, and stared in the corner of the Infirmary for a second. "Yet. You can never know what the future brings. But even supposing I am bi, I am not attracted to Draco. I admit he's a good-looking bloke,"

Draco glanced up at this for the first time, with a raised eyebrow.

Zabini shrugged. "but I'm not interested in him, and I wouldn't attack him for no reason. Especially when he's in a relationship, because that place, the place I'm in right now of 'person that the person in a relationship slept with', is not a lovely place to be."

"Doesn't that sound poetic," Ron breathed.

"So what are you saying?" Hermione stared at Parkinson, and Parkinson shrugged.

"There was an outside factor that caused Blaise to seduce Draco, and then erased Blaise's memory of the event. He says his last memory before waking up was walking through the halls to the common room. He can't remember anything after that."

"It is a pity, though," Zabini's grin, which had been fading, quickly restored itself. "I mean, if I'm going to have sex with Draco, I should at least be able to remember it. I get the consequences but not the actual thing? How fair is that?"

There was a moment of silence, and Pansy spun towards Blaise. "Could you just shut it? You aren't helping the situation." She turned back towards Hermione. "So, what I've been thinking is that there is a person that really wanted to hurt either Draco, Potter, or Blaise. Does Potter have any enemies that would do this sort of thing?"

Everyone, even Draco, stared at her for that question. Harry sighed. Was Parkinson living in a green and silver toilet? "The world? All of the supporters of Voldemort? Your parents?" He offered.

Parkinson paused, and nodded. "Alright, stupid question. Any enemies that are intimately involved in your personal life to know about the relationship?"

Ron snorted. "Why do you keep pinning this on Harry? Zabini's the one who the "outside factor" affected. It's probably one of his enemies. Ask him, why don't you?"

"Because we know all of Blaise's enemies," Parkinson paused, and stared at Harry. "But not all of Potter's."

"Did you think of Luna Lovegood, for Blaise's enemies?" Hermione inquired, and Zabini raised his eyebrows.

"And how is she my enemy? I don't even know that girl."

Hermione sniffed, and looked away. "You made fun of the Quibbler last year."

"That was last year! I didn't even remember that. Don't you think that if she was going to take revenge for that, she would've already?"

"She was really upset!"

Zabini rolled his eyes and shifted his posture, settling one hand on his hip. "So what? My apologies, Granger, but I don't think Loony Lovegood knows the meaning of revenge, let alone-"

"Blaise, shut it already!" Parkinson yelled, and put a hand on Draco's shoulder. "Okay," she looked at Hermione, "We won't rule out Lovegood. I doubt it was her, but you never know. Let's move on to the means. Blaise has no memory of the event, nor would he have participated in it of his own power. The outside factor, no matter who caused the outside factor, cause this memory loss and the initialization of the event."

"Excuse me," Harry waited until they'd all turned to him before he spoke. "Why does any of this matter? So, Zabini didn't do it of his own power, and has memory problems. So, someone was trying to either put Zabini in a bad situation, or screw Draco and me up. Draco didn't have any sort of outside influence or what ever you're calling it. This isn't going to help our relationship by any means." He felt a pang in his heart as he reminded them, but it didn't matter. It wasn't like Draco looked particularly sorrowful either, besides the fact he was looking at the floor.

Parkinson gaped at him for a few seconds before speaking. "Well... I suppose you have a point, Potter. But don't you want to know who sabotaged your relationship? They might decide to destroy all of the rest of you relationships otherwise. And..." she glanced to the side, at Draco. "...Maybe you can find it in your heart to forgive Draco."

Harry shook his head. "No, that's very unlikely."

Parkinson sighed. "Maybe once you've been released from the Infirmary. That's in a few days, right? Once Madam Pomfrey is sure you won't drop dead?"

"Yeah, it-"

"Hang on," Ron broke in, and glared at Parkinson. "What makes you think he will ever want to get back with Malfoy? The prat cheated on him!"

"You never know. I just wanted to resolve this situation and prevent further harm to Potter's relationships. But if you don't want our help, that's fine." Parkinson's chin tilted up arrogantly, and she grabbed Zabini's hand whilst keeping grip of Draco's shoulder. "Come on, let's go."

Draco looked at Harry one more time, before following Parkinson out the door.

"Blimey, I'm glad those three are gone." Ron exclaimed to Harry's side, and Harry could picture his grin. Hermione pounced.

"Ron, you could've at least tried to be more polite. Pansy was just trying to help."

"Oh, so she's Pansy, now, is she? Going to be her best friend?"

"You know that's not what I meant!"

Harry stared at the door. It didn't open again.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Oops, I forgot this for a few hours after posting! Whoops... Anyways, thank you to my wonderful readers and especially reviewers, and a great big huge GIGANTIC thank you to my beta, Aniki the Infamous!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own.  
**

"Harry," the girl breathed into his mouth.

Harry almost groaned with annoyance.

They all wanted a relationship. And no, the perfectly good excuse of how in his last relationship, his significant other had cheated on him was not enough. But this was different, they all kept saying, Between us two, this is true love. Harry always wanted to hit them when they said things like that, but he refrained, and instead secretly planned the breakup lines with a quiet sense of relish.

The girl pulled back from their kiss to murmur some mushy words at him, and Harry shook his head without allowing the tender words to register.

She frowned at him. "Harry? I just said I loved you. Why are you shaking your head?"

Harry shrugged, and tugged himself farther from her, flattening his back against the bathroom tile. "Look..." He trailed off, and raked his memory cells for the name. "...Jenny. This, between us, can't work. I'm sorry, and I realize you got your hopes up, but I don't enjoy spending any sort of time with you. So I think it would be best if we broke this off now. Before anyone gets too hurt."

Jenny's already flushed face turned redder, and small tears dropped down her cheeks. "But Harry, we belong together, don't we? When you asked me out, you said-"

"I said I didn't want a relationship."

"You said I might be the girl you had been searching for, and you would keep thinking about it!" Jenny cried, and planted the palms of her hands on the tiles to both sides of his head

Harry shrugged again, and side-stepped past her, squeezing himself against the wall and bending his knees to duck under her outstretched arms. "I thought about it. And I realized I was wrong." Jenny broke into another batch of sobs, and Harry walked backwards until he was a few feet from the door. Then he turned and sprinted out.

* * *

"So..." Pansy began as she sat down across from Draco and speared a piece of chicken. "Potter broke up with another girl."

Draco waited for a second, and flapped a hand, ignoring the slight tug of depression poking him in the back of the head. "So?"

"So, don't you care?"

"Not particularly. It just means that the Weaselette is hanging herself all over Potter again."

Pansy sighed, and leaned forward in her chair. "Don't you think-"

"Lovely day, isn't it?" Blaise swung his legs over the space on the bench on Pansy's left. "Potter's broke up with a really pretty girl again, Draco. He's a real idiot, do you think he knows that? He's got the ladies falling left and right for him, the hot ones too, and all he does is break up with them."

Draco stared down at his dinner and twirled a fork in his spaghetti while Blaise continued rambling about how stupid Harry was.

"...I mean, take you for an example, Draco. He just throws you away like a ragdoll."

Draco smiled slightly. "Nice to know my place."

Pansy laughed, and grabbed another piece of chicken. "Well, I'm sure the girls will all hug you."

"Actually, I modify that metaphor," Blaise muttered, and stared at the ceiling contemplatively until his head snapped down. "Draco's more like a voodoo doll than a ragdoll. Of death. And depression."

"Makes sense," Pansy stuck the chicken in her mouth and pushed herself up from the table, waiting until she swallowed to speak. "I've got to go study in the library. I'll see you guys in the common room later, alright?"

"Sure, whatever," Blaise muttered, and glanced across the table at Draco as Pansy slid off. "Well, her grades will definitely be better when she finishes, that's for sure. She's been studying in the library a lot."

He paused, and gave a huge grin that made Draco nervous. "Do you think she got a boyfriend?" His grin widened. "Or maybe... a girlfriend? Not the friend kind, that is, but is dating a girl?"

Draco stared at him, and looked over to where Pansy was disappearing behind the doors. "No." He glanced back down at his spaghetti.

Blaise groaned. "You just don't want to think you're the only one without a girlfriend, especially since Potter's the one that broke up with you, and not the other way around. Then you wouldn't care."

"Blaise, you don't have a girlfriend."

"Ruin the mood, why don't you? Besides, I'm working on that--I have my eye on a lovely redhead who's playing hard to get."

Draco looked up from his food and at Blaise. His eyebrows scrunched together, and he stared desperately at him. "Come on, Blaise, don't let it be the Weaslette, please. There are very few non-Gryffindor redheads at this school, and I'd think that my own experiences with Gryffies would teach you not to date them. People will try to sabotage your relationship, but it won't matter because it'll still be your fault."

"Yes," Blaise mused. "Sabotaged relationships are usually my fault, whether they're my own or someone else's."

He sprang up from his seat, and Draco watched him bemusedly.

"Well then! Now we've officially determined I'm an idiot for being about to ask Weasel out, I'm going to go do the asking!"

"Go ahead." Draco glowered at him as the food on the table disappeared, to be replaced by mounds of pudding. "I'll watch you get a black eye from here."

Blaise grinned again. "Aww, don't worry 'bout me, Draco. I've got persuasion techniques!"

Blaise galloped off towards the Gryffindor table, and Draco contemplated the pudding on the table for several seconds. Then he realized the strangest thing about Blaise's words.

_"I've got my eye on a lovely redhead who's playing hard to get..."_ No gender specified.

_"I'm an idiot for being about to ask Weasel out." _That was... the male gender specified.

But Blaise wasn't gay, right? Back in the hospital wing back after that incident, and many times before that, Blaise had always said that he wasn't gay. Otherwise, though, he would have said Weaselette, not Weasel.

Draco's eyes shot up from the pudding, it momentarily forgotten as his eyes landed on the table he'd been trying not to look at for weeks, and on his ex-boyfriend.

"Weasley!" A voice boomed, and Harry turned around to look for the bearer. Ron turned too, but Hermione had left a few minutes ago for the library. "Could I have a word with you?"

Blaise Zabini bounced on the balls of his feet behind them, in a way that really made Harry doubt his claim those weeks ago about not being gay. Perhaps it was only a stereotypical thing that only gay guys acted girly, but with Zabini you had to doubt it.

Ron snorted. "About what, Zabini? Dessert's here. Shove off."

"I was wondering," Zabini announced, "If you would be at all agreeable to going to Hogsmeade this weekend with me?" His voice, already loud amid the normal speaking levels of the rest of the school, suddenly seemed more gigantic in the room-wide silence following his question.

Ron's face was slowly turning a purplish color, and it flashed varying shades of maroon while darkening. "You prat," he growled as whispers slowly began wafting up into the ceiling. "Like I'd ever go out with you! That's ridiculous!"

"And why not?"

"For-for-" Ron sputtered. "For multiple reasons. Not the least of which, you're a Slytherin p—prat!"

"Now, now, Weasley," Zabini's grin slowly diminished to only a patronizing and thin smile. "I think you ought to listen to me a little. I know some things that could assist your little girlfriend Granger in her quest for knowledge, given that I was provided the correct incentive to release that information. And since I know that you've had a crush on Granger for years, I think you should want me to help her, shouldn't you?"

The whispers drifting around the ceiling increased in a rush, and Harry saw Hufflepuffs sprinting across the hall to share thoughts with their friends.

"Plus, since I've already told everyone about your crush, I think you can guess that I know more things about you that you wouldn't want released into the current gossipy atmosphere of the hall. For instance, like that-"

"Fine," Ron muttered. "Fine, you total bastard Zabini. Have you been stalking me my whole life or what?"

"I've never stalked anyone!" Zabini gasped. "I've only gathered copious amounts of information on people. It's a habit, a collection, of stamps or something. Only instead of stamps, I collect information. It's much more useful."

"Bastard," Ron muttered again.

Harry rolled his eyes. He did have to hand it to Zabini, though, he'd never have thought of blackmail as a proper tactic for asking Ron out, nor collecting information instead of stamps.

"I think you're being a bit repetitive, there. We've already figured out how much of a bastard I am. I'm pretty sure I knew it before you did, actually. So, meet you when they release students to leave to go to Hogsmeade? I usually see you, Granger, and Potter when I'm heading out, so just be around that area." Zabini grinned again and waved flippantly as he turned away.

Harry looked past Zabini then, and at Draco as he stood awkwardly by the hall doors. While the breakup hadn't showed any lines of stress or harmed his appearance in any way really, he looked a smidge thinner, and shorter. Harry took the shortness as both that Draco was standing next to Zabini(who was quite tall on the whole) and was also slouching in a way Harry'd never really associated pureblood wizards with. They'd always sat and stood with their backs straight, even and especially Draco.

There was a shy poke to his shoulder, and Harry glanced to his left. A small Hufflepuff stood, her toes pointed in at each other a little, and her tie so crooked it almost flipped over her shoulder. She had large, old glasses teetering on her freckle-peppered nose, and chestnut hair fell in large tangles down her shoulders. She stared at him nervously.

"Um, Harry... I heard you were single, so..." She trailed off, and looked down at her feet, pushing her glasses up stubbornly. "I was wondering if you would go out with me?"

Harry blinked at her for a few more seconds. He'd seen her around, and in the library when Hermione managed to drag he and Ron there, but she'd generally had her nose shoved in a book deep enough to hide the hideous frames of her glasses. Even though that wasn't quite her fault, Harry couldn't tell why she wouldn't just get rid of them and have Madam Pomfrey fix her eyesight. Unless she thought they were cute?

"Who are you?" He asked.

Ron was distracted from seething about Zabini long enough to glance over, but he went back to muttering in increasing volume after satisfying himself that the girl wasn't a Slytherin.

"Eleanor Bradshaw. I'm a fourth year Hufflepuff." She fiddled with a bracelet hanging loosely from her wrist and bit her lip.

Harry thought for a moment, and then shrugged. She was young, but she would do until he found someone older. Sadly, most of the sixth, seventh, and eighth year girls had already heard that he dumped most of his girlfriends, and if they broke up with him first, he wasn't dejected in the slightest. He'd probably have to start delving into the mines of the fourth and fifth year girls anyway.

"Yeah, okay, I'll go out with you."

"CAN YOU BELIEVE THE NERVE OF THAT PRICK, WALKING OVER HERE AND DARING TO ASK ME IF I WOULD-"

Even though Hermione would've surely been lecturing him on breaking so many girls' hearts and accepting another invitation from a girl he didn't care about, Harry sometimes really wished Hermione was at dinner to calm Ron down. Harry still wasn't quite sure of Zabini's logic of asking Ron out--after all, with Ron's current death threats, Ron would probably lure Zabini into a dark alleyway and gut him.

But perhaps that was all part of Zabini's plan. After all, he didn't seem like a sensible bloke, really.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: It's an update! After...a long time. Well, anyways, thanks to all of the wonderful people who have been reading this story, and especially to all those who have reviewed, since you're awesome. And a GIGANTIC thank you to the COOLEST beta ever, Quiet Anon!!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

"It's all your fault, Hermione!" Ron paced the boys' dormitory angrily.

Harry grinned at him as Hermione sighed and crossed her arms.

"Ron, you didn't have to accept. He was just asking you."

Ron stopped and stared at her. "Yeah, but he said he knew something you wanted to know! Who knows what he knows! The guy's a stalker."

Hermione rolled her eyes and sat down on Harry's bed with a huff. "And just what makes you believe that Zabini's a stalker?"

"He knew- never mind," Ron's eyes trailed downward, and he continued pacing the room.

Hermione leaned back onto the bed, propping herself up with her hands. "Besides, Ron, I could've probably gotten the information Zabini knows some other way. I do think it's very sweet of you to go out on a date with him, but I don't think that it's my fault. He obviously really wanted you to agree if he supposedly tried to blackmail you."

"Not supposedly! He did!"

"Of course he did," Hermione soothed.

Ron bobbed his head irately, stalked over to his wardrobe, and stopped.

"What am I supposed to wear, anyway? I'm on a bloody date with a Slytherin that I was blackmailed into. Should I wear mourning colors or something?"

Hermione rolled her eyes again. "No, you should dress very nicely. After all, since this is such an awful trial for you, you wouldn't want him to say that since you didn't take it seriously, he was going to make you go on another date with him, right? Wouldn't that be terrible?"

Ron groaned. "Yes. Bloody hell, you don't think he can do that, can he? We have a deal."

"No, he can't, as long as you keep to your side of the deal. And you agreed to go on a date with him, which means a date, where you dress nicely and are kind to the other person and all. Foreign concept to you, I know, but try your best."

Ron flung his hands into the wardrobe, tossing out behind him a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt. He chucked a sweater out hardest, and Harry had to duck to avoid it. Ron spun around, and yanked off his clothes to change into the 'nicer' outfit. Hermione sighed and covered her eyes with her hand.

"There. That'll do, right?"

Harry glanced, up, and he saw Hermione's hand fall back down to the bed. Ron only looked a little scruffy now, almost like an angry munchkin from The Wizard of Oz with red hair.

Harry shrugged. "I guess it's fine. It's not really first date material, and I don't think Zabini's going to be particularly impressed."

Hermione flapped a hand. "It'll do. It's an improvement on what you would've worn, anyway."

Ron gave her a vaguely insulted look, but nodded.

"Blaise, if you're serious about dating Weasley, why did you ask him out by withholding information?" Pansy inquired as she, Blaise, and Draco walked out the door into the courtyard on the way to Hogsmeade. "I'd think you would have wanted him to agree of his own power."

Blaise smiled merrily over at her. "That's the thing, Pansy dear. Do you really think Weasley would have ever agreed if I hadn't said I had a piece of information Granger needed? Of course he wouldn't have. There was no other way."

"And that's the other issue," Pansy's brow furrowed, and she stopped and turned towards the two boys. "Do you actually have information for Granger, or was that just leverage? You haven't told me anything Granger would want to know."

Blaise's head bounced. "Exactly. That's because you would probably go right to Granger and tell her."

Pansy opened her mouth, and Blaise waved a hand.

"Oh, stop it. I saw you two working in the library three days ago. You're too friendly with her for me to tell you what I plan to withhold from her."

Draco raised his eyebrows as Pansy gaped at Blaise. Honestly, it was news to him that Blaise knew that too. Blaise never seemed to breathe a word of what he knew to anyone until he could use it for maximum effect, except for when he was being stupid. Then he just blurted out anything that came to mind.

Pansy drew her head back and snapped her mouth shut. "Well then," she tilted her head up and looked away, "I guess there's no point in making up an excuse, since you both already know. Hermione and I are going to visit Dervish & Banges. We're going to look for items that may have caused the effects on you, Blaise. Potter and Weasley probably still don't know she's meeting me, though, so we'll meet a little later when she can slip away from Potter."

"WHAT?" Weasley exclaimed from behind them.

Draco sighed and turned around at the same time as Pansy and Blaise.

Weasley stared at them from in between Harry and Granger, his face reddish-plumb colored. His head snapped towards Granger.

"You're meeting her? Pansy Parkinson?"

"Yes," Granger sniffed, and glanced at Pansy. "We're looking for information on what and who caused the odd effects on Zabini, since we both believe that it's an important piece of this mess. Even if it was a one-time revenge by someone, at least we'll know that."

Harry sighed. "You know, Hermione, I think you're taking this a bit too much by the fist."

"We've been over this before, Harry. They might try to sabotage ano-"

"Yes, Hermione, another of my relationships. But if they use this same method, then I should be thanking them for pointing out an obviously unstable relationship to my attention. If my boyfriend or girlfriend will cheat on me just because their friend's under some sort of spell or potion, I don't think it's meant to be."

Granger shuffled her feet and glanced down at her Mary-Jane shoes.

"Think about it. Pansy and I are going to Dervish & Banges anyway, just in case. Since we're both here, how about we just go?"

Her gaze snapped up, and she strode forward towards Pansy, taking her arm and beginning the path down to Hogsmeade. Pansy gave a little half-wave back at Draco and Blaise, and ran ahead with Granger.

Draco turned to face Harry and Weasley, and Blaise stepped forward. He cleared his throat awkwardly, while Weasley's maroon face gaped at him.

"Well, since Pansy and your Granger have both run off to have fun in Dervish & Banges, perhaps we should be off ourselves, Weasley. I'm sure Potter will be glad to be rid of you, and Draco can do whatever suits him."

"What, he can't get a girlfriend?" Weasley sneered at Draco in a contemptuous way.

Draco wondered why Ron hadn't been sorted in to Slytherin, if only for the hatred he was capable of. It would have been a slight setback that much of that hatred was aimed at Slytherins, but Draco was pretty sure the sorting hat didn't think too much about that sort of thing.

"He's a voodoo doll," Blaise nodded. "I don't know that voodoo dolls want girlfriends."

Weasley's eyebrows scrunched together, and his eyes squinted like he was concentrating really hard. "I don't get it."

"You don't have to," Draco groaned. "I'm not a voodoo doll."

Blaise beamed. "Speaking of voodoo dolls, Weasley, would you like to go see the Shrieking Shack?"

"I've seen it b-" Weasley started peevishly, broke off, and grinned suddenly. "Yes, let's go to the Shrieking Shack. Let's go really close to it." His eyes glinted slightly.

Had Draco not seen Blaise slip his wand up the sleeve of his sweater this morning, he would've been more worried as to Weasley's eagerness.

Blaise and Weasley wandered away bickering about how close was close enough to the Shrieking Shack, both of them naming distances about a meter apart, and Draco glanced toward Harry.

"So..." Draco started feebly.

Harry's head snapped away from Blaise and Weasley's figures and towards Draco. "What?"

"I don't know." Draco copied his harsh tone. "I just figured we shouldn't sit here in awkward silence forever."

"It wasn't awkward. I just didn't really want to talk to you, nor did I know what I'd talk to you about."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "So what do you want to call that? Not a comfortable silence, obviously, and not an awkward silence."

Harry scowled over at him. "How about just a silence? Is that good enough for you?"

Draco shrugged. "I don't actually care that much. I was trying to defend my effort to make conversation, not start an argument over exactly what silence we're in."

That was what was called an awkward silence.

"Well," Harry mumbled, and gazed off past Draco. "I've actually got a date with Eleanor. So I've got to go."

"Eleanor?" Draco resisted the urge to snort. "Who's that?"

Harry glared at him. "She's my girlfriend. She's in fourth year, a Hufflepuff. She's really cute."

"You're dating fourth years? That's four years younger than you."

"I ran out of fifth, sixth, seventh, and our years."

Draco stared at him. "You ran out of girls, and that's why you're dating a fourth year. That's pathetic."

"It's not just because I ran out of girls," Harry growled, "She's cute and nice too."

"But that's not the reason you're dating her. When I speculated that she was four years younger, you didn't say 'she's special' or 'she's different' or anything of the sort. You said that you ran out of the other years."

"But that's not-" Harry stopped, and squinted at the air for a second. "Well, yeah, that is correct. Who are you to criticize me on my relationships anyway? You cheated on me."

Draco sighed. "As you seem to bring up in every conversation, yes. I think we've figured that out already."

Harry nodded. "The point was that you are in no position to say that I'm not choosing my girlfriends correctly, when you aren't exactly straight on the romance track."

"At least I'm admitting to my mistakes and not dating anyone instead of constantly dating in a foolish attempt to prove that you aren't gay."

"I'm not- You know what?" Harry sent him a viper-like glare. "I have to meet Eleanor. And I'm not going to argue with you and be late to my date just so that you can twist everything I say to make me look bad."

He gave Draco another glare, and stomped off into the crowd heading toward Hogsmeade.

Draco stared after him, motionless.

"So, Zabini," Ron began as they both stared at the Shrieking Shack from behind the fence. "Why are you interested in me?"

"Huh?" Zabini's gaze flew to Ron. "Could you repeat that? I wasn't listening."

Ron groaned. "What, are more of your senses than your eyes screwed up? Why are you interested in me?"

"I would've thought it was obvious," Zabini drawled.

"Well, obviously not. So, why?"

"Why what?"

Ron flushed angrily. "Since it's not obvious, why are you interested in me?"

"Who said I was interested in you?" Zabini tilted his head.

"You asked me out, so you're interested in me. It's common sense."

"Just because I asked you out doesn't mean I'm interested in you."

Ron blinked blankly at him. "So, are you interested in me or not?"

"Of course not. You're-well, just look in the mirror one day."

"Then why did you ask me out?"

"I would've thought it was obvious."

"You already said you thought it was obvious," Ron growled. "What did you think was obvious?"

"The reason I asked you out, of course."

"Zabini." Ron's hand began inching towards his wand. "Tell me the reason you asked me out. Now."

Zabini swung his hand up and glanced at his watch. "Look, can we just stand here for another minute or so? Then I'll tell you, and I'll tell Granger the information that I promised and count this as a date, despite the fact that it's only been about fifteen minutes."

Ron glared at the Slytherin suspiciously. "You promise you'll tell me and give Hermione the information?"

"Yes, I promise." Zabini bounced his foot impatiently. "Now, there's only about thirty seconds left."

They stood there for a while staring at each other, and Ron groaned. "Has it been thirty seconds yet?"

"Only a few more."

"Zabini, a few seconds off won't hurt. Just tell me already."

Zabini stared at his watch, and finally nodded. "Yes, it's been enough time."

"Okay," Ron glared at him. "So, why did you ask me out?"

"Simple," Zabini smirked, "With Pansy doubtless meeting Granger and going somewhere to research, the groups would have been you and Potter, and me and Draco. So, if I take you and me out of the equation, that leaves Potter and Draco. Hopefully they've talked a few things over, and either figured out that they do hate each other, or taken the first step towards getting back together."

"Wait..." Ron blinked a few times. "So, you were just stalling when you kept saying you thought it was obvious? And that's why you wanted to wait a minute before telling me?"

"Of course." Zabini beamed.

"Well, Harry actually had a date with Eleanor today."

Zabini's shoulders fell slightly. "Really? That's a shame. He had an excuse to slither off, then." He sighed, but then brightened after less than a second. "Oh well. There's always next weekend."

Ron groaned. "If you ask me out again just to set them up, I'm going to curse you. Actually, I'm going to curse you now." He grabbed his wand out of his pocket, and pointed it at Zabini with a grin.

"No, you won't," Zabini smirked. "If you do, then I won't tell Granger the information."

Ron paused. "Hermione said she could've found out the information another way."

"She was probably counting on Pansy knowing it, which she doesn't." Zabini's smirk grew larger. "So you shouldn't curse me."

"Why doesn't she know it?"

Zabini sighed and rolled his eyes. "And you thought I could be interested in you? Because then Granger could've found it out, you dimwit."

"Fine," Ron growled, "Tell me the information, or I'll curse you."

"But if you curse me, I won't tell you the information. Face it, Weasley, it all depends on me."

"Or Veritaserum."

Zabini's mouth opened, and closed again as he slid his wand out from his sleeve. "That's one of the first good points I think I've ever heard you make, Weasley."

"Zabini," Ron stared at him. "You've already said you'll tell me. Why not now?"

"You're on a roll today, Weasley. That's the second decent point you've made. However, the truth is, I don't think you'll be happy with the information, so I don't want to be the nearest object you can curse, despite that I'm doubtless a far more advanced dueler than you."

"Zabini, I might curse you either way."

"Alright, that's also a good point." Zabini paused dramatically, and finally smirked at Ron. "The person who administered the potion that made me lose my memory and go after Draco, as well as the person who is currently working on administrating a non-made-by-me love potion for Harry, and who deliberately sabotaged Potter's relationship?"

Ron's eyebrows raised. "Administrating? The person's doing it now?"

"Yes, but hang on, or you'll completely look past them."

"Zabini, hurry it up then!" Ron hissed.

Zabini winced slightly. "Your dear sister, Ginny Weasley."

Ron stared at him for a moment, and bolted for Hogsmeade.

He could've sworn that behind him, Zabini had started laughing.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I am so, so sorry about how long it took to get this chapter out. There were several complications with the site that made me and my beta, the _amazing_ Reverse Lucky Girl, unable to send files back and forth. But we have triumphed at last, and here's chapter 12! The next chapter is in progress, but coming along slowly. I'll have it done as soon as my muse is permitting.  
A GIGANTIC thank you to Reverse Lucky Girl for beta-ing!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. JKR does, as far as I know.  
**

"He's not really yours yet," Ginny told Eleanor, and smiled convincingly. "Trust me, just give him this. He'll be captured for just enough time for him to fall in love with you, enough that you won't need any more of the potion. I made it myself to help you, you know, and I can assure you that there's nothing wrong with it at all."

Ginny had been so furious at Parkinson and Zabini when they'd given her the bad love potion, but she could see now how it would have been so convenient for them to do so. You tell the person that the love potion's for their beloved and is keyed to the person, they administer the potion, and poof! All your work is done for you. It wasn't as though the damage Zabini and Parkinson had done was irreparable, either. While Ginny had meant to make and administer that lust potion to Zabini herself, whoever had stolen her notes had apparently done that themselves. That had broken up Malfoy and Harry's friendship.

Now, the only thing left was to administer her own potion that she had brewed herself, through Eleanor Bradshaw.

Eleanor hesitated, wrapping her scarf more tightly around her neck as she shivered in the wind gusting through their alleyway. "I don't know..." she murmured, and eyed the potion.

Ginny remembered eying Parksinson and Zabini's potion in just the same fashion.

"Come on," Ginny smiled more sweetly. "I'm a seventh year, do you really think I could screw up something as simple as a love potion?"

"Those Slytherins, uh, Parkinson and Zabini, they're eighth years, and they poisoned Harry with theirs." The big eyes behind the monster glasses blinked up at her.

"That's only a rumor. Besides, they're Slytherins," Ginny let her disgust for them show through. "They're stupid anyway, no matter how experienced they claim to be."

"Well..." Eleanor watched the bottle as Ginny shifted it in her fingers. "I suppose that as long as you're sure you didn't mess anything up at all, it could hardly hurt."

"Exactly," Ginny crooned softly, and plopped the bottle into Eleanor's gloved hand. "Just pour a few drops into his drink, and he'll fall in love in seconds."

Eleanor nodded nervously, and quickly shoved the bottle into a coat pocket. She lifted her left arm, pulling back her coat to glance at the small watch.

"I've got to go meet Harry now. So..." She smiled innocently up at Ginny. "Thank you, Ginny. Thanks for the potion, and the help, and everything. I'll-I'll try to make it up to you, I promise."

Ginny flapped a hand. "Oh, don't worry about it, Eleanor, there's really no need. It'll be enough for me to just see that you and Harry are happy together."

Ginny smiled again, and fluttered a hand towards the Three Broomsticks. "Go have fun on your date now! Don't forget my directions."

Eleanor happily nodded to Ginny, and scrambled off towards the pub, no doubt hoping that Harry wouldn't have been kept waiting for her.

Ginny giggled, and watched as Harry and Eleanor arrived outside the Three Broomsticks at the same moment.

Harry graciously opened the door for Eleanor, and slipped inside afterward.

Ginny waited a few minutes in the alley, then slowly began to inch towards the Three Broomsticks, lest she miss the moment Harry took a drink of the love potion and rid himself of that little mouse. The expression on Eleanor's face would surely be of most extraordinary hilarious shock as she realized her gullibility and the common trickery she had so easily fallen prey to.

"Ginny!"

Ginny spun towards the other end of Hogsmeade, setting a humble and confused expression upon her face. "Ron?"

Ron bent down and supported his weight on his knees as he caught his breath for a few seconds. He looked up at her, and Ginny silently appraised his expression. He was angry, most certainly, perhaps a bit surprised and shocked, and maybe even a dash of disgust mixed in there. Definitely worried and tired, having run all the way here for something.

Ginny cursed a bit in her head, and prayed that her idea of what he may have run here for, and called her name for, was something like him wanting to save him from the evil grasp of Zabini.

"Ginny," Ron breathed again, and stared desperately at her. "You- Harry- Zabini- What- What were you doing a second ago?"

Ginny raised an eyebrow, pretending she had no idea what he was trying to ask. "What are you talking about, Ron? Harry's with his new girlfriend, I was going to get some butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks, and you were supposedly with Zabini, weren't you? Where'd he go?"

"He's still at the Shrieking Shack, I think. Gin, he said that you were working on giving Harry another love potion, and that you were the one that gave him the potion Hermione and Parkinson are looking for."

Ginny laughed. "Oh, come on, Ron. He's a Slytherin; you can't honestly say you trusted a Slytherin, can you?"

"He sounded..." Ron considered for a second. "Okay, he didn't sound serious. That bloke seldom does. But I don't think he was lying. What were you doing a second ago?"

"I was giving Harry's new girlfriend, Eleanor, tips for dealing with him," Ginny shrugged. "That's it, Ron. She just left to meet up with Harry." Ginny paused, and her brow furrowed a little as she stared up at Ron. "Wait, did you say I gave Zabini the potion or whatever that Hermione and Parkinson are looking for? I didn't do that."

Ron blinked. "I thought your argument was that you hadn't done either of them."

Ginny flushed. "Of course I didn't. But I meant to make a potion exactly like the one Zabini was given. My notes disappeared the day before I was going to begin making it, along with all of my sources. I thought I'd lost them, but then the same effect as the potion I'd been researching took place. I decided that it would be too much work to redo all of that work."

Ron rocked on his heels. "So you made the love potion for Harry instead?"

"No." Ginny bit the inside of her lip the tiniest fraction. "I didn't do either. But I would have given Zabini that potion." She frowned. "And it was administered anyway."

"Mr. and Miss Weasel! How's your little chat going?"

Ginny and Ron both turned towards the road in the direction of the Shrieking Shack, and Zabini bounded towards them.

Ron stomped forward angrily. "You said that Ginny was the person administering a love potion right now, and who gave you the potion. She says that her notes were stolen before she could make the potion to give you."

Zabini sighed. "I thought we might be able to talk normally before jumping into our potion talk. But see, Weasel, while she probably, and correct me if I'm wrong in my assumption, while she probably denied both actions, she obviously denied giving me the potion most adamantly. Therefore, we can conclude that she did that one less than she did the other. That she focused solely on proving her innocence on one matter makes it probable that she has little proof against the other, and takes little offense at being implicated in committing it."

He paused and drew a deep breath before continuing. "So she has administered the love potion, as we can tell from her being so adamant about not having given me the potion. Because of her stronger denial on that matter, we can guess that she participated not at all, or at least less, in giving me the other potion."

"Or maybe your accusation was wrong."

"Or maybe you just don't want to admit that your sister is a criminal."

"Why did you say that she did both things, when you knew she only did the love potion?"

"I knew?" Zabini threw back his head dramatically and placed his right hand over his heart. "Then why, pray tell, would I have told you she did both? Obviously I believed she did both, or I would have told you otherwise."

Ron squinted at him. "You didn't seem to be surprised when I told you that she did only one of the things."

"My dear Gryffindor, I am a Slytherin. Of course I did not seem to be surprised. Slytherins are often surprised, it is just impossible to tell when."

"You stupid Slythe-"

"Ginny! I love you!"

Zabini suddenly looked slightly amused, and Ron spun angrily towards the Three Broomsticks. Ginny turned as well, with a sly smile that gave Ron a sinking, disappointed feeling. He would have much preferred to prove Zabini completely wrong.

Ginny smiled at Harry as he raced out from the bar, a tearful Eleanor trudging behind.

"Thank you, Harry," Ginny simpered.

Ron felt a heavy gaze on him, and he turned back to Zabini with a sigh.

Zabini smiled cheerfully. "What do you say, Weasel? Proof enough that she's a manipulative little girl?"

Ron looked away. "I don't see any proof saying she's guilty of anything, Zabini."

"Come on, Weasel. Potter's trailing after her like you trail after Granger when she's holding steak. Your two vices, right there."

Ron glanced back at Zabini, furrowing his eyebrows. "What?"

"Longing for no logical reason. Obviously, the love potion was for her, not brewed by Eleanor for Eleanor. And I doubt that it was brewed by Eleanor for Ginny, as that would make little sense." Zabini's gaze popped over Ron's shoulder, and at the store behind him. "Oh, look, Pansy and Granger have heard the ruckus and are wondering what it happens to be about. Pansy dear! Hello."

Parkinson strode up to Zabini, each Mary Jane shoe flatly stomping on the ground. "Up to the castle. Now. I don't know what you did."

"Why, Pansy, I didn't do anything! The Weaselette got Potter trippy with a love potion."

"Oh, I'm sure that's what happened." Parkinson yanked Zabini's arm upwards, and began pulling him roughly away.

Ron was glad that he had Hermione, who ventured to physical force less often than Parkinson seemingly did.

"Draco Malfoy!" Parkinson screamed, and several alarmed faces began to peer out through the dust-shadowed store windows. "Draco, come up to the castle! Blaise did something bad! I don't know what yet, but Potter's in love with the Weaslette all the sudden."

Hermione stalked past Ron, nudging him as she passed, and put a hand on Parkinson's shoulder. "Pansy, shush up. We do not want the entire school running out here to see Harry!" She whispered.

Parkinson dryly glanced over her shoulder. "I need to get Draco. He should know what's going on."

"I heard, Pansy." Malfoy slouched up to her, raising an eyebrow at Zabini. "Your date with Weasley."

"It ended quickly."

Malfoy nodded slightly. "I can imagine. Did it start with him pushing you off a cliff, or end with him pushing you off a cliff?"

"I never, believe it or not, was pushed off a cliff, stunning as it may be. Though, speaking of stunning, there were a few nasty threats about curses thrown in there somewhere."

Malfoy shrugged, and turned to Parkinson, tired eyes regarding her quietly. "Are we going to the castle to figure out what he did, then? Or elsewhere?"

Parkinson replied something quietly, as Hermione backed up until she was even with Ron. "Ron, what happened?" She muttered quietly.

Ron shrugged. "Well, Zabini told me that Ginny did everything, and so I asked her, and then Harry came out and started proclaiming his love for Ginny."

"Do you know the love potion Ginny used?"

"Hermione..." Ron growled. "I don't think Ginny did it. I-no, I don't know. Merlin, Zabini's confusing. All this stuff about her denying both, but denying one more than the other, and how that means she did the other thing she didn't deny as much, and yet he told me about them."

Hermione sighed. "Ronald, learn to at least remember the conversation clearly, if you cannot understand the conversation."

"No, I remember it! It was just like that, I swear, Hermione! Zabini's insane!"

Hermione stepped forward a few paces, and tapped Parkinson's shoulder as the Slytherins began their departure. "Pansy, let me know the results of your inquiries with Blaise, okay? Ron can't tell me what he said, let alone interpret it."

"Of course." With a slightly amused glance sent towards Hermione and Ron, Pansy continued toward the castle, her hand still holding Zabini's tightly.

"But Ginny! You don't understand! I love you! I will write poems about moonlight and stars and similes and comparisons all night long, just for you!"

Ginny looked slightly disconcerted.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Oh. My. Goodness. It's an update. Pigs are flying. Hell is freezing over. I really do apologize for the gigantic gap between these two chapters. There's no excuse for it, none at all. I do maintain, however, that I will finish any story that I start. So, don't worry. There should only be one more chapter, but it will happen! Even if it takes another year... **

** This chapter has not been edited by my beta, since I don't want to bother her after all this time. Sorry for any mistakes.  
**

**This chapter should tie up most of the story into a nice little knot. I apologize if it seems a little sudden.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I'd probably be better at updating on time. Thus, I do not own Harry Potter.**

Blaise fell back into the chair Pansy shoved him towards, and smiled amiably as she sat down across from him in a similarly styled green chair. Draco sat beside her, glancing back and forth between them and occasionally allowing his eyes to wander to the paintings on the walls of the common room.

"Start at the beginning," Pansy instructed.

"There's no beginning from which to start from, Pansy dear. I went on a very short date with Weasel. He ran away. I followed him. You arrived. And we all lived happily ever after!" Blaise crossed his arms and grinned.

Pansy raised an eyebrow. "Weasley was blabbering something about you telling him two things, and about one being more correct than the other because she denied it more. What were the two things you told him?"

"As you said, Pansy, he was blabbering. I mentioned something about Potter and Eleanor and he sprinted away."

Draco's voice was quiet, but very deliberate. "How did Harry end up under the influence of a love potion for Ginny Weasley?"

Blaise stared at him, before lowering his eyes. "Miss Weasley brewed a love potion to make Potter fall in love with her, and convinced Eleanor Bradshaw to give it to Potter much in the same fashion that Pansy and I convinced her to give our potion to Potter. And like Miss Weasley, Eleanor administered the love potion freely."

"How do you know?" Pansy took out a quill, and began to rummage in her bag for some parchment.

"I can read minds. I read Miss Weasley's entire plot out of her mind."

Pansy sighed.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Blaise, whatever happened between me and Harry, you were a large piece of it. You owe it to me to answer these questions."

Blaise snorted. "Ask the Weaselette. You can piece everything together from her."

"Blaise. I'm sure that you know nearly everything that happened. We could try to sort out fact or fiction from the Weasleys' testimonies, but we aren't going to." Draco crossed his legs.

"And if we know everything that happened, Draco and Harry might get back together." Pansy added brightly.

Draco frowned at her, but Blaise nodded. "That's all I wanted, you know. For the two of you to be happy together."

Draco glanced back to him. "So what did you do?"

Blaise sighed. "When Pansy and I screwed up the love potion, it poisoned Potter. You visited him in the hospital wing, and his near death ended up pushing you together, although your relationship was still on shaky ground. So I thought about what I could do to help you out. First, I wanted to eliminate the threat of the Weaselette breaking you up without my permission, so I cast a spell on her diary that would send me a copy of every page she wrote. Then I turned to what I could do to strengthen the relationship you and Potter were already in.

"As I thought about what got you together, a phrase came to mind: 'What doesn't kill us, makes us stronger'. Cheating seemed like the perfect thing that would make your relationship stronger. But considering that I'd already nearly poisoned Potter with my potion-making skills before, I decided that the key would be to put myself under the influence of a potion that would cause me to lust after you, and cause you to cheat on Harry. The Weaselette already had notes on a similar potion that she had described in her diary, so I stole the notes and removed the memory-erasing aspect of the potion. I just lied about not remembering what I'd done. It didn't go according to plan, and you two broke up. The End."

Pansy gaped at him. "Keep talking."

"About what?"

"That wasn't even what we were asking you about. There's got to be more to it. Continue."

"I would prefer not."

"Blaise," Draco gazed at him. "You just told me that you accidentally on purpose broke me up with my boyfriend. I would like to hear the rest of the story."

Blaise lowered his eyes. "Fine. So then I had to get you back together, since it was my fault you broke up. Potter went off dating tons upon tons of girls. You were sulking. Miss Weasley was writing about her dreams of making love potions and administering them through Potter's girlfriends. Pansy, you were acting a little colder towards me, so I cast the same spell on your journal that I had on Miss Weasley's diary. Your protective enchantments on it are not, in fact, that difficult to break through. Anyway. Despite Potter's girlfriends, he still often went to Hogsmeade with Weasley and Granger. I read in Pansy's diary that she was planning to go with Hermione to some Hogsmeade shops for clues the next Hogsmeade weekend. If Granger and Pansy were gone, and I left to go someplace with Ron Weasley, it would leave Potter and Draco alone to hopefully sort out their differences.

"Based on the Weaselette's observations and my own, it was likely that Weasley had a crush on Granger, so I used that information to blackmail Weasley into a date with me the same weekend both Pansy and Granger would be occupied. I lied and said I had information for Granger. I didn't. Nevertheless, it appeared everything was set up for Potter and Draco to at least speak to each other."

Blaise groaned. "And then it all went to hell. Do you need to hear that, too? No, don't answer that," he added as Pansy opened her mouth, "for you'll guilt trip me because I spelled your journal. Never mind.

"The Weaselette must have been too busy brewing the love potion to write in her diary. She didn't write the whole week leading up to this weekend. And then, early this morning, she wrote that she had finished her love potion and would administer it through Eleanor today, and that Eleanor Bradshaw was Potter's new girlfriend who he was going on a date with this afternoon. She got the time wrong, and it appeared that Draco and Potter would still have some time to talk despite the date. The love potion she described was a stupid choice. It was too strong to be unnoticeable, and an antidote would probably be administered soon after he went under its effects."

Blaise paused. "Actually, it worked similarly to how I intended. The date was too early, and I doubt you had much time to talk with Potter, Draco. Sorry about that. On my date with Weasley, he revealed that the date was early enough that the little of my plan I revealed to him wasn't going to go as planned, so I cut the date short. As my 'information', I decided to tell him about his sister's plan in the hope that he could save us a little trouble by preventing Potter from drinking the potion. I also told him that she was the one who gave me the lust potion, so that he might realize that despite her denial of giving the potion to Eleanor, she denied that action more vehemently with more evidence. I forgot his lack of intelligence. It was quite funny to watch the whole thing play out, though."

Blaise blinked. "And that's it, isn't it? Then you dragged me in here and demanded a confession of my crimes. And I've confessed. Am I forgiven?" He smiled and looked up at Pansy and Draco.

Draco stared at him in wonder. "You're mad. You're completely and totally mad. You did all of that, with the intention of helping me, and yet none of them helped me in the slightest."

Blaise frowned. "You didn't even have a small conversation with Potter today?"

"Not a civil one, at least. Because you broke us up, remember?" Draco's hand began to creep towards his wand.

"I really am sorry about that, you know. I was only trying to help."

"And yet, rather than throwing up your hands and saying, 'oh, I guess I can't really help out here, considering how all my plans keep failing miserably', you continued to form more idiotic plans."

"I was trying to correct my mistakes," Blaise muttered. "Miss Ginny Weasley and Miss Eleanor Bradshaw are the ones who screwed it all up."

"And now you're blaming other people-"

"Boys," Pansy admonished. "No fighting, please. Blaise," her eyes rested on him, and he met them steadily, "You did a lot of really idiotic things. But I will forgive you under the following conditions. You will write out the entire story, and give a copy to all of the involved Gryffindors, especially Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter, and you will write a letter of formal apology to Draco, me, Ron Weasley, and Potter, and also deliver a formal verbal apology to Potter. You will also give a copy of the story to Professor Snape, and he can assign you detentions and/or punish you for the school rules you've broken as he sees fit. You will also remove all spells you have placed on my journal, and will change the spells on the Weaselette's diary so that I receive copies of her entries as well. Agreed?"

"No formal apology letter to the Weaselette?"

"She had her own things she did wrong. The only thing you did to her is invade her privacy, which I fully approve of."

Blaise shrugged. "Then agreed. I would rather not be punished by Snape, but I assume that you are substituting a school-based punishment in exchange for you not hexing me?"

"Correct."

"Again, I agree to your terms of forgiveness." Blaise looked away from Pansy to watch Draco, who appeared to be carefully observing the floor. "Draco? Your thoughts?"

"You're mad," Draco said, "Absolutely fucking mad."

Blaise grinned. "I thought we established that fact first year?"

"We did. You're mad in an entirely new way now."

"But do you forgive me for the deeds driven by my madness? Or is my madness a deed unforgiven?"

Draco snorted. "Whatever. I'll mostly forgive you under one condition. That you never interfere in my romantic or sexual affairs again."

"I won't, I swear."

Draco looked up and held Blaise's eyes. "Would you sign an unbreakable vow?"

Blaise's response was without hesitation. "No."

Draco paused, and then nodded, extending a hand. Blaise shook it, smiling.

"At least I know you're being truthful again," Draco murmured.

"I'm a Slytherin. I don't sign unbreakable vows if I can help it, especially not ones so open as that. After all, what if I became your boyfriend or lover at some point? Wouldn't that be interfering in your romantic or sexual affairs? But if it's with your permission, does it count as breaking my vow?"

"How much do you think it would sell to the Daily Prophet for?" Pansy asked.

"How much would what sell for? My unbreakable vow?"

Pansy rolled her eyes at Blaise. "This whole story. About Potter's love affair. After everything's resolved, you know? How much would it sell for?"

"A lot." Blaise nodded to himself and turned back to Draco. "And would selling a story of your love affair count as breaking my vow?"

"Shut up about your vow, Blaise," Pansy snapped. "I'm thinking family fortunes here."

"You're not selling this to the Prophet, Pansy," Draco said.

"What if I have Rita Skeeter on standby?"

"Pansy..." Draco sighed and looked away. The fact that she shouldn't sell his love life shouldn't be hard to understand.

Especially considering what people's meddling in his love life had done so far.


End file.
